Before the Wedding
by thorinsmistress
Summary: In the TV series, we jump from "You can no longer be my servant" to the wedding. The book says that the banns were read (which is three Sundays in a row) and Demelza has a new dress. This is what went on in those three weeks of June 1787.
1. Chapter 1

"You can no longer be my servant."

Demelza felt as if her heart had dropped into her stomach. She had thought, for a fleeting moment, that him coming after her would change the situation. Back to Illugan, then. To skivvy for her new stepmother and Methody father. None of the other families in the area would take her as a maid, not now. She wanted to weep, but would not in front of him. She had already done enough of that. She nodded instead, her unruly hair brushing over her cheeks, but her eyes wouldn't look directly at him. "I understand, sur."

"No, you don't, Demelza," he said. Had it really only been a day (not even) since she had enticed him in that damn dress? He had accused her of not being worthy enough to wear fine clothes, and now he was going to confuse her again.

She looked up at him then, up on Darkie with the sun pinking his face. "Sur?"

"If you agree to return, I'll take you back to Nampara." He paused to gauge her reaction, and she shook her head. "Demelza, I want you to stay at Nampara. Not as my servant." A second pause, not quite as long as the first. "I want you as my wife."

Demelza couldn't stop her mouth dropping open. "Wife?" she asked. "Sur, I..."

"If you agree, I'll go to Reverend Odgers first thing tomorrow and the banns can be read the next three Sundays."

"Sur, Mister Ross, you can't marry me! I aren't your sort," she protested.

"I told you before, your place is where I say it is," said Ross. "I want your place to be at my side."

Ross watched her try to process this, her fingers nervously twisting Garrick's lead. "At least come back to the house. None of this running away." He wouldn't force her to marry him; he wasn't that crass for all his other failings. But he wasn't an idiot. It was entirely possible that she was already carrying his child. He moved back in the saddle and put his hand down to indicate she was to climb up in front of him. "I'm sure Garrick will follow us."

She hesitated only a moment before putting her foot into the stirrup and climbing into the saddle, sitting aside. She held herself straight and stiff rather than taking her ease against him behind her. He signaled to Darkie with a few clicks and they were off, back to Nampara.

What could she say? Her mind was telling her that she couldn't marry him, that he would regret it. After Elizabeth's visit today, perhaps she would regret marrying a man who would always carry a torch for another woman. She would never be accepted by his family: Elizabeth's face had been clear enough on that note today when she realized that there was more between Demelza and Ross that servant and master.

But her heart? That unruly organ was desperate to have any sort of relationship with him. If it hadn't been for the rumors she would even have been happy being only his bedmate.

"You need to calm yourself. Darkie can sense your distress," said Ross. It was said simply and as a matter of fact. Brought out of her thoughts, Demelza could feel the horse's agitation under her and made herself relax as much as possible. "That's better."

Nampara was close. "Is it to be a secret?"

"Can hardly be so if Odgers announces it three weeks in a row," said Ross.

"Oh. Of course."

"What's amiss?" She paused and started to stiffen in her seat again. "Nevermind. Let's wait until we get back to the house."

Demelza sighed before saying, "I didn't cook anything for supper."

"I set Prudie to it before I went after you, poor substitute though it will be."

They were quiet the last miles back to Nampara, both lost in their own thoughts as to what these changing circumstances would mean. Upon their arrival, Ross went to the stable to brush Darkie down while Demelza went to the kitchen to see what she could salvage of Prudie's cooking. Both Paynters were nowhere to be found, something Demelza appreciated at that moment. Prudie had made some sort of fish stew that was edible. Demelza had baked only yesterday and they had a whole loaf to share.

She heard him coming before he entered the house, his heavy boots impacting the ground near the doorway. She didn't hurry to get the food onto the table, but it was there for him when he came in anyways. She poured two glasses of ale and brought both to the table, as well as the bottle. He sat down and she joined him. "I tasted it, sur. It's edible, at least," she said, eyes not leaving her plate.

"Ross."

She looked up at him then. "Sur?"

"If you're going to marry me, you need to call me by my name. It's Ross."

She just nodded. After over three years of being either 'Sur' or 'Mister Ross,' calling him by only his Christian name would take some adjustment.

"What happened today?"

Demelza took a deep breath. "Not today. Yesterday."

Ross's only reply was a raised eyebrow.

"My father came by. Apparently, the rumors of our sinful living has reached even Illugan. He tried to convince me he had been saved by his new marriage to the Widow Chegwidden, is a sober man, and that I needed to come home to skivvy for them. He was to return today. I'm soon to have a half brother or sister."

"I see. And did you wish to return home?" He prayed not. Not only did he want her, desire her dearly, but she made life at Nampara so much more livable. And he could not bear the thought of her father not having conformed and beating her again.

She scoffed. "I'd like as ta stick a fork in my eye." At that he did laugh a bit. "No, my home is 'ere. Has been for years now." That statement gratified him. "I'm just afraid he'll come back and try to take me away."

"It won't happen, Demelza." He didn't mention the fact that he didn't think Tom Carne would make the ten mile walk from Illugan to Nampara again anytime soon. "Tomorrow I'll send Jud to Illugan and let him and your stepmother know that you will be staying here. And marrying me."

"Yes, sur. Ross." He could hear the emphasis on her name as if she had never heard it before.

"As I said, tomorrow I'll ride to Rev. Odgers and let him know to begin to announce the banns on Sunday." She just nodded. "We'll need witnesses, but Jud and Prudie should do."

She stopped with her spoon midway to her mouth. "You'd not want your family there?" she asked.

"Only Verity, and I'm given to understand that my uncle isn't allowing her out of the house at all."

"Oh."

"What?" It was said with the slight hint of a snap to his voice. She knew his moods, and knew that his family was one of his sore spots.

"But it isn't to be secret?" she asked again.

"No." His short answer caused her to drop the entire subject, and they continued to eat the mediocre meal in relative silence.

Ross looked at her more closely that he had in some time. She would need better clothing. The yellow dress was lovely on her, but it was beginning to be too short and worn. Fine for a kitchen maid, not mistress of Nampara. He made more mental plans for the following day.

When they had finished, she returned to the kitchen to clean up, but returned fairly quickly with a bottle of brandy that she had hidden from his binge after the Jim Carter fiasco. As had been her wont of late, she sat at his feet on the floor facing the fire while he sat in his chair. Here he could talk of the mine or of the investors and get her opinions. It was clear that she understood mining, had it in her blood as much as he did even with being female.

Tonight, however, he let himself brush his hands through her red-gold tresses, pulling out curls and massaging her scalp. Neither said anything, but just enjoyed each other's company.

Ross did not want to assume anything, so when the fire was low and it was quite dark out, he said, quite simply, "I'm for bed."

"Yes, Ross." They were both impressed with her for not stuttering on his name at all. "Am I to come with 'ee?"

"Only if you wish it," he said, putting out a hand to help her up from the floor.

"I do wish it," she said quietly.

His desire for her came out then: he gripped her around the waist (such a tiny waist) and kissed her. It didn't have the same amount of angry passion that had fueled last night's kisses, but she could still feel that he wanted her. She allowed him to lead her up the stairs to the master's bedroom. If last night had been a turning point, this decision was a new chapter in the book of Ross and Demelza. It was something they were both doing with their eyes wide open.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, Demelza didn't wake before first light as she usually did, and Ross didn't wake her, either. It was quite clear to him that the situation and her emotions were taking their toll on her. Plus, he enjoyed watching her sleep.

While the situation was not ideal, he couldn't help being pleased. Demelza fit into his life extraordinarily well. She took him as he was; there was no need to change. A woman of his "own class," as Mrs. Chenowyth would say, would not be as willing to be his helpmeet. They wanted his name, but Ross couldn't deny that Nampara was no Trenwith. Nor even a Teague House. No, Demelza was much better for him than any society lady.

Dressing quickly and grabbing a simple cold breakfast, he rousted Jud to give him a verbal message to take to Demelza's father in Illogan. Ros thought a moment about whether the banns would also need to be read at Illogan, but decided that, seeing as Demelza had lived at Nampara for over three years, Illogan was no longer her home. Ross wasn't surprised to hear the constant refrain of "t'aint right, t'aint proper, t'aint fitting" as Jud left the house, but he watched to make sure the other man actually headed on the road to Illogan rather than remaining at Nampara.

His first stop away from Nampara was the Reverend Odgers. It was no secret in the district that Ross was no fan of church, nor of the curate himself, but he did respect the man for his keeping his family on only £45 a year. Ross found Odgers digging in his garden and asked for a few moments of the older man's time. Receiving it, he almost didn't know how to begin. Finally, he just blurted out his request. "I need you to announce the banns for the next three Sundays, Reverend."

Odgers looked at him with a penetrating stare, not unlike the one he had given Ross at Jim and Jinny's wedding. "I see. And you will be marrying?"

Ross sighed. "Demelza Carne."

"Your kitchen maid." Ross could see Odgers _almost_ start to shake his head in disbelief, but stopped himself. "Alright. I'll announce them. Will you want to be married on the third Sunday, or will you wait until later?"

"That Sunday would be preferable." Ross pursed his lips together, ensuring he would not elaborate on the circumstances. Rumors were bad enough, no need to confirm them.

Odgers sighed. "I shall see you in three weeks, then. I'm assuming I won't see you before then."

Ross just smiled before saying, "Unlikely, Reverend." He had never been a regular churchgoer. He turned on his heel and went back to his horse, which he had left at the fence by the front gate.

Leaving the curate, he turned to go into Truro. Passing Trenwith, he had to force himself to not stop and share his news. They would find out soon enough, and Ross didn't want to deal with having to defend Demelza or his decision to marry her. He certainly didn't want another blowup with Charles and Francis anything similar to what had happened with Verity and Captain Blamey.

He found himself wishing he had brought Demelza with him to town. Her joy in nature and living things would have made the miles go faster; if he had been lucky he could have enticed her to sing for him on the way. But then he wouldn't have been able to find her a present, nor consult frankly with his banker, Harris Pascoe, on the state of his finances.

It was the only pall over the whole situation with marrying Demelza. Though Wheal Leisure was open and employing a good number of miners, the ironstone was already a large obstacle. There was no indication they were close to hitting copper. It was vexing. Money was easily flowing out, but very little trickled in. And he could tell that some of his investors would not be content to wait for their capital to be returned.

When Ross called at Pascoe's premises he was immediately shown into the office and greeted by his banker. "Ross! I had not expected to see you in town."

"Yes, well." It was unlike Ross to prevaricate, and Pascoe's eyebrows twitched. "I'm getting married and needed to consult with you to ensure my thoughts on my finances were accurate."

If Harris's eyebrows twitched before, they were now close to dancing. "I had no idea you were marrying."

"it is a sudden decision," said Ross.

Pascoe made no reply, but urged Ross to sit across the desk from him. "Am I to assume that this is no rich heiress you plan to wed?"

"You know me better, Harris."

"Of course I do. Well, unless there's something you haven't told me, you have the mortgage on Nampara, though that is the house only, not the land. Of course, that was negotiated by your father and has a very low rate of interest. There's the mine as well, with the nearly £500 worth of capital invested, including your own, of course. Some small notions with a few of the local merchants herebouts."

"And for my own capital?"

"The land. Wheal Grace. Whatever guineas you have hoarded away at Nampara."

Would it be enough until they struck copper? It would have to be, thought Ross. He could not bear the thought of not marrying Demelza now, of disappointing her, of not having her with him.

"So. Who are you marrying?" asked Pascoe.

Ross didn't immediately answer: it was entirely possible that Pascoe would not approve at all. Not just due to Demelza's lower class, but Pascoe had an unmarried daughter, Jean. Would he have expected Ross to consider her as a wife? "Do you remember Demelza, at the opening of Wheal Leisure?"

Pascoe sat back in his chair. His eyebrows didn't twitch, but Ross thought he detected a twinkle in his eyes instead. "Your maid."

"Yes."

"I might not remember her, but I've heard the rumors. You're taking a risk in marrying her. Some of your investors won't be well pleased. You might think about trying to buy them out."

Ross let out a bark of scoffing laughter. "With what, Harris? Until the mine starts producing copper we're stuck, barely making even with expenses."

Pascoe put his hands up to stop Ross's tirade. "It was just a suggestion. Something to keep in mind for the future." He seemed to make himself even more comfortable in the chair and then said, "You won't do your somewhat tarnished reputation much good with this marriage, I'm afraid. One step forward and two steps back, such as it were."

Ross simple nodded and stood up from the desk. "Well, we wouldn't want to make the gossips work any harder, would we?" He shook Pascoe's hand and departed the office. It was as he thought then, more debts than credits. But enough to keep them going and still have money for some little luxuries.

Upon leaving Pascoe's, he found the haberdasher's shop where he had purchased Demelza's cloak. After the cloak purchase, he had sent her off to find her own dress at the nearby draper's shop. Now he found himself first pulled to the draper's to purchase not a ready-made frock, but rather to have a dress made for her. He had never chosen clothes or fabrics for another person. Not in his 27 years. He had barely chosen them for himself.

He ended up choosing a dark rose colored fabric. The draper had asked the color of the lady's hair, and when Ross had answered with 'red,' had nearly torn the fabric out of Ross's hands. But it would look lovely on her, he knew. The second fabric he chose was a fine gold with flowers printed on it. He thought it would appear to Demelza's love of them. It never seemed that she was far away from fresh flowers. He had both made up in the same way as the ready-made frock in the current style. He could barely be bothered to listen to the draper, instead absently answering yes to most of the questions put to him.

When he said everything was for his wife, the others in the shop grew quiet, but the draper continued to pull all sorts of notions for him to decide on. In the end he took the lot, paid for the order and arranged for delivery to Nampara as soon as possible. That would be sure to set the tongues of Truro wagging.

Rather than head to the haberdasher's, he looked instead for a jeweler's. Again, not something he had thought about purchasing ever. And, he minded to himself, Demelza's ring would have to look _nothing_ like the one Elizabeth had gifted to him.


	3. Chapter 3

Unlike Ross's, Demelza's day began slowly. She woke leisurely and felt the sunshine on her face warming her skin. She stretched and rather than Ross's warm body, she found only cool sheets. Opening her eyes, she saw that the sun streaming through the windows was higher than usual. The realization made her come to wakefulness nearly immediately with a gasp of shock. Looking around the master's bedroom, it was clear that Ross had been gone for some time.

Life had always been better if she kept herself busy, and Demelza decided to utilize that strategy now. Plus, the bed truly held no allure to it without Ross in it with her. Pushing the sheet away, she felt her body give a small protest at the ghosting aftermath of her night with Ross. She wasn't used to being with him yet, in any sense of the words. And the announcement yesterday that Ross wanted her to be his wife had shocked her to her core. She had never hoped for it, nor thought to wish for such a thing. That was a line she would never have crossed without his instigation.

Pushing the pain out of her mind, she washed and dressed quickly, knowing that Jud and Prudie would be skulking about. She had made it out of the master's bedroom once without their knowledge, but didn't know if it could happen a second time. At least this morning she had her own clothes with her rather than the dress from Ross's mother. She padded into her small bedroom and ran her comb through her tousled curls and pinned it back out of her face. Demelza remembered that Ross had said their marriage would not be secret, but until they were wed, she would do her best to remain as she had been and hug the delicious secret of him to herself.

Prudie was sitting in the kitchen, nursing a dish of tea. "What 'ave you been doing, girl? Nigh on midday."

"Where's Mister Ross?" Demelza asked,

"Been out since early morning. Jud too."

So Ross had sent Jud to Illuggan as he said he would. And he had gone to see Reverend Odgers this morning. Demelza felt her stomach flutter in excitement and let out a small smile.

"W'at you got to be smiling at?"

Demelza just shook her head before settling in to bake. She noticed the flowers in one of her jars were beginning to die and reminded herself to go fetch some new ones later. She began humming to herself as she mixed and kneaded the bread dough. Prudie watched her closely but said nothing. It wasn't unusual for Demelza to hum or sing while she worked.

Ross had not left word when he would return, so she delayed any thoughts of a midday meal and instead thought of the other chores to be done. It was difficult to describe her feelings today: excitement, yes, but also the worries she had enumerated the previous evening had not gone away just because he had said they weren't important. And yet, as ever, his word was law in this house, and he said he wanted her as his wife.

She set the bread to rise and went out to the field near the house where she had been tending a patch of vegetables and some flowers. Working at weeding would give the bread enough time to rise and be put into the oven before she went out and checked the fields. With the mine taking so much of Ross's energy and concentration, she tried to make sure everything at Nampara ran smoothly.

After returning to the house, leaving the bread to bake and hoping that Prudie would take it out before it burnt, she walked down to the meadow to check to see if Jud had made any progress on the hay. As she walked, Demelza saw Jinny walking to Nampara with the baby on her hip. She hadn't seen Jinny since the morning Jim Carter had been arrested. The baby, a girl, had been born the same day as his trial for poaching. "Jinny. How 're ye?"

"Demelza. I be a'right. Thought I'd bring the baby by for ye to see." They sat in the high grass and Jinny handed the baby to Demelza. With six younger brothers, Demelza was an old hand at babies.

Demelza smiled at the child's face. "You shouldn't have walked all the way here from Mellin, Jinny. Not so soon after." The little one started to fuss.

Jinny shook her head, took the baby back and rocked her a bit. "I needed to be out'a the cottage. Without Jim, well, some moments it seems so big there 'ould never be enough people to fill it. Other times, it seems so close it's like being down one o' the mines."

Demelza had no reply to that. She peered at the baby again and said, "She's lovely, Jinny. What do you call her?"

"Connie, after Jim's mum."

Demelza felt her smile stretch further. "Is she pleased?"

Jinny blushed and shook her head. "She says not, but she is, I can tell. Demelza." She reached out for Demelza's wrist. "It can't be now, o' course, with the baby." She paused. "But could you ask 'e if there might be work for me? With Jim gone I don't know 'ow I'll keep us fed."

Demelza sighed. "I'll ask, Jinny. You going to stay in the cottage?"

Jinny nodded. "If Cap'ain Poldark is willin' for me to keep it with no rent, as he was when Jim were still 'round. My father and I will make sure it stays in good repair."

"It might be field work."

"That'd be alright wit' me. I used to work above grass at Grambler wit' my brothers," said Jinny.

"Mister Ross be in Truro today, but as soon as he gets home I'll let him know."

"Thank you, Demelza. I'll be off home so you can finish." The two women stood then, brushing the dirt off their skirts. "You should come by Mellin when you have some time, Demelza. Must be lonely up here all by ye'self."

While in her mind Demelza knew that she was anything but lonely at Nampara, she nodded kindly. "Thank you, I will."

Demelza was left in the meadow alone as she watched Jinny walk back to Mellin. She sighed and began the task she had meant to start before Jinny's arrival. Ross had mentioned when they had come back to the house the evening before that he wanted to start on the winter barley field if it was ready for harvesting. She walked through the rows of plantings, noting that all seemed to need further growing time. With Jim gone now, they would have to hire another farmhand. Even with her, Jud, and Prudie, with Ross when he wasn't working the mine, they wouldn't be able to get through it all.

Unable to begin on the barley, she moved instead to the turnip field. Not grown exclusively for food, this field, she knew from her evenings with Ross, was used in crop rotation to put nutrients back in the soil so it could be used for other crops later.

She stopped for a moment to think about the man that would soon be her husband. He tended to call himself a 'squire' when they talked of such things, and took on the charge of the people living near Nampara. From the limited interactions she had with his family, she knew they did not act similarly, not even his cousin Verity.

If - when - she married him, what would he expect of her?


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: This is **so** not how I expected this chapter to go. With the idea that the wedding took place approximately three weeks after the infamous "blue dress" episode, many of the interactions and reactions to the marriage have been moved up in time. I hope this doesn't affect the characterizations, but please let me know if you think I'm full of it. :)

* * *

When he had returned that evening, it had been empty-handed. Not that she had expected anything, but he had gone into Truro and it was unusual for him to come home with nothing. "I saw Reverend Odgers. He'll announce the banns, and we can be married the third Sunday afternoon after the services." They were sitting together at the table eating supper.

Demelza blushed. "I'm that pleased, Ross." There was no danger to calling him by his Christian name: Jud and Prudie had long been abed. Jud had given her a sidelong look when he returned from Illuggan, but as he had arrived home not long before Ross had, the man had been unable to corner her and give her a piece of his mind. Nor had he been able to tell Prudie so she could do it for him. She expected to get an earful tomorrow. Demelza knew that they would not approve or understand. _She_ didn't rightly understand. "You went to Truro?"

"Yes, and then to the mine to see Captain Henshawe. Damn ironstone."

"What does he think?"

Ross sighed and took a drink of ale. "We're going to have to start blasting. Of course, gunpowder is yet another expense. It could be months before we reach copper. I should do my best to try to get as much capital out of my investors sooner, though my banker tells me that instead I should be trying to buy some of them out before they sell their shares to George Warleggan."

"Oh." Demelza paused before asking, "Why do you both dislike each other so?"

Ross pushed back his chair and let his legs extend completely under the table. "We have always been at loggerheads. But currently it is his and his family's blind ambition toward profit that bothers me the most. That and his constant undermining of my relationship with Francis. The two of us can do that well enough on our own without George interfering."

"I see." She let the silence linger just a moment longer than was comfortable. "I checked the barley today; it still needs a few weeks before harvest. I think we're going to have to hire another farmhand. And Jinny came by. She brought the baby." She saw a grimace of both anger and frustration fall over his face and he looked away from her as she spoke. "She was asking for work once the child is a little older."

His gaze moved back to her. "She did?"

Demelza nodded. "I told her I would speak with you. She worried about how to keep herself and the child with Jim in Bodmin." She hated to remind him of what he saw as his failure with Jim Carter.

"Does she want to stay in the cottage?" Ross asked.

"Yes, she does."

"Well, when you marry me we're going to need a kitchen maid. I've been spoiled and won't be able to go back to Prudie's cooking ever again."

Demelza took in a gasping breath. "Oh. I hadn't thought about that." She could feel her face heating again.

Ross reached across the table and put his hand on hers. "Did you think I would change my mind?"

Now it was her turn to look away. "You should. You should marry some rich lady and then have no problems with money and the mine and the Warleggans and keeping everyone in their positions. I aren't a lady, Ross. I 'ave no idea how to be one. You know I'd be more 't 'ome harvesting barley and pulling turnips than going to a ball on your arm. That be my place."

He gripped her chin then and gently guided her face back towards his. "That may be so, but your place is with me. Whether we're pulling turnips or going to a ball." He looked straight into her eyes for a moment, then let her go and moved back in his chair again. "Have you been worrying on this all day?" When she didn't answer he said, "Of course you have. And not said anything to Jinny or Prudie?"

Sometimes he could get her ire up with his moods, and this one, with its combination of flirtatiousness, condescension, and concern, made her snappish. Previously she had been able to take herself off to another part of the house to do chores or walk Garrick, but she couldn't do that now. She had to deal with her betrothed as a wife would, however that might be. "How could I? I don't rightly understand it myself!"

"You aren't required to understand. You're only required to accept it."

Of course he could not grasp why she was so hesitant. If there was _anything_ Ross Poldark was, it was comfortable in his station in society and in his own skin, even with the scar on his face. Demelza's scars, hidden now, would forever remind her of her humble beginnings with a father that drank too much, beat her bloody on a regular basis, and left her and her brothers to be cold and hungry. Ross probably thought she should be grateful. And she was, to a certain extent. But she didn't want to be with a husband out of gratitude. If that was all their relationship was about, she'd rather stay his kitchen maid, and hang all the gossips and rumors.

She sighed before taking their empty plates to the kitchen. She needed a break from him for a few moments. Before coming back to the parlor where they took their meals, she stood at the doorway on the kitchen side, closed her eyes, and took a deep, calming breath as she leaned against the door frame.

"Demelza."

"Judas!" Her eyes dashed open to see Ross standing close enough to her that their faces were nearly touching. "You trying to frighten me to death, Ross?"

"Demelza." She could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek. "I know this is difficult for you. I'll try to make it easier. But I told you, your place is by my side. Always." He placed a light kiss on her cheek before turning on his heel back into the parlor. "I'll be in the study until late; don't wait for me." He turned back to look at her and said, "You're welcome to sleep where you like."

There was no possible way that Jud wouldn't have told Prudie about the upcoming nuptials, thought Demelza. She decided that she would need the time in the morning with Ross, if she could persuade him to stay in bed with her for awhile.

Demelza enjoyed the feeling of being wrapped in Ross's arms when she woke the next morning. She noted that the sun was not yet up, and burrowed further into his embrace without waking him, going back to sleep herself. Upon her subsequent stirring, he was gone again, though she could hear movement below stairs. Her reverie was broken by the addition of male voices. She couldn't make out any actual words, but could hear tones of frustration and disapproval. Ross and Jud, then? She couldn't think of anyone else that would be at Nampara so early in the morning.

Quickly washing and dressing, she began to make her way downstairs as hurriedly as possible when, upon reaching the bottom of the staircase, she realized it wasn't Jud's voice she had heard arguing with Ross. Instead, the Trenwith Poldark men were loudly informing Ross that he was not going to be accepted in any polite society and that he would be the laughingstock of all of Cornwall. She thought she even heard Mister Francis say that Ross and Verity were well matched in their poor attachments. She would have sworn that her heart skipped or stopped beating entirely. It was one thing for her to remind Ross of these things, especially when he insisted this marriage was what he wanted. It was entirely another for his family to be involved. And Reverend Odgers hadn't even begun to announce the banns yet; that wouldn't happen for two more days.

Demelza felt her legs begin to quiver and threaten to drop her onto the floor. She hastily moved from the landing into the kitchen, where she was met by Prudie. She groaned inwardly. Prudie in addition to Ross's family would be too much. Instead of fussing at her, however, Prudie led Demelza over to the fire and gave her a small push to indicate she should sit. Demelza watched, dumbfounded, as Prudie made a dish of tea and then handed it to her. "What's going on?" Demelza whispered, barely able to take in this change of attitude.

"I don' think it right, or fittin', but Mister Ross is in the parlor fighting 'is family for ye, so he must care for ye. And I'd rather 'ave ye here than some fudgy-faced baggage with drop curls." She leaned closer to Demelza as if to impart a secret and said, "Like Mister Francis's wife."

Demelza could say nothing in reply. If she was still to marry Ross after this morning's event, she would have to tread a fine line between the her old life and the new one. For now, however, she needed to leave the vicinity of the upraised voices or she would put herself in a state. "I'll be in the garden, Prudie," Demelza said as she stood up. "I can't... You'll attend to the guests." She didn't wait for a reply before nearly running out of the room and leaving the house.

"Stubborn boy." Charles Poldark sat in the large chair that used to belong to his brother Joshua, while Ross and Francis sat on either side of the table.

Ross simply nodded. "If my staying in Cornwall and the reopening of Wheal Leisure didn't illustrate that clearly enough, Uncle, I'm not sure what else I could do."

Charles Poldark let out a guffaw and glanced at his son. Francis's face was white and his skin drawn tight around a frown. "This is a mistake, Ross," said Francis.

Ross sighed. "Francis, I don't know what else I can say. I don't need your permission. Nor yours, Uncle. I've received the only permission I need, and that's Demelza's. I've made my decision. I shan't keep it a secret. For her sake if not my own."

Charles could tell that Francis was not mollified by this statement at all, and decided to face the issue head on. "Well then, I expect you and your betrothed to join us supper at Trenwith on Sunday."

Ross was taken aback. "Uncle?"

"Choake tells me I'm not long for this world, Ross. The heart stroke I had at the christening was the first, but will probably not be the last. I insist on meeting the woman you are going to marry and I know that Aunt Agatha will wish to as well. I believe that only Elizabeth has seen her recently."

Ross coughed, remembering that visit. "Yes, indeed." He rubbed his hand across his forehead in exasperation. "I'll ask her. I'll send a reply to Trenwith later today."

"Excellent," said Charles. "Come, Francis. I'm sure there's something at Grambler that could use your attention." The two men exited Nampara and Ross watched as Francis helped his father up onto the horse. It took longer than expected, but the older man was still holding on.

What was he going to tell Demelza about _this_?


	5. Chapter 5

Ross first went to the kitchen and found only Prudie, poking at the fire with a poker. "Where is Demelza?"

"In the garden, sur."

He started a bit. "In the garden?" He sighed. "So she heard all that, then?"

"Yes, Mister Ross," said Prudie. "Well, when ye' were shouting. She's been out near a half hour."

So she hadn't heard the invitation then. "Thank you, Prudie."

She turned to him as he began to leave the kitchen. "Mister Ross, suh?" He nodded at her to continue, and yet there was still a long moment before she began to speak. "Jus' ... be kind to her. I tol' her what I'm saying to ye, and that it ain't right, and ain't fittin', but it coul' be worse. An' while it ain't like to do any good, I'll tell Jud t'same."

There could be no reply to that; he simply nodded and left the house. The garden wasn't too far away, and he could just make out her red hair between plants as she knelt on the earth. Demelza usually hummed to herself as she pulled weeds like this, but today he could hear nothing. From the house there was no way to come to her except from behind, but he knew she wouldn't appreciate it without some warning. "Demelza?" he called, loudly enough to be heard but he tried to modulate his tone so it wasn't quite as strident as it would have been normally.

As he came closer, her weed-pulling pace increased. Ross noticed that she wasn't paying attention, and more than just weeds were being uprooted. He moved quickly and came next to her, kneeling beside to her and putting his hands over hers. "You're pulling more than just weeds, Demelza."

Her hands immediately stilled. Without looking at him, she asked, "Has your family gone?"

He sighed. "Demelza. I want you to be my family."

She scoffed and turned to him then. "Ross, your family won't accept me. If they won't, how will the rest of Cornwall?" She moved back to face the plantings and began to pull the green invaders again. "How did they even hear about it? The first reading of the banns hasn't even happened yet!"

"I may have mentioned yesterday while I was in town that I was buying items for my future wife."

She deflated then, sitting straight on the ground and rubbing her face with her hands. "Oh Ross."

More gently than the previous evening, he cupped her face in his hands, noting the dirt she had smudged on her brow and that her eyes were closed so she didn't have to look at him. "This changes nothing, Demelza." She tried to shake her head. "Well, I suppose you're right. It does change a few things. I'm going to have to ask for the dress order for you to be rushed, as my uncle has invited us to supper on Sunday."

Her eyes flew open then and her head stilled in his hands. "Ross?"

"He wants to meet the woman I'm to marry."

Demelza pulled away from him. Even sitting on the damp earth didn't deter her from moving away. "How could you, Ross?" He had thought she might raise her voice to him. But this tone was one of utter defeat. "I tol' you I don't know 'ow to be a lady. And now you want me to introduce me to your family and I'm not even your wife yet. How can I do this? In two days? Are you trying to make a fool of me?"

Now it was his turn to shake his head. "Never. That was not my intention; I would never do such a thing, I swear it, Demelza." He grasped her hands in his own: they were cold and shaking fiercely. He rubbed each one between his own.

"They'll all look at me and compare me to her. I aren't her, Ross." Her eyelids shook and a tear escaped one eye. He had only ever seen her cry once, and that was the night she had seduced him. He understood now that her coming to him had been an act of desperation, one of longing and thinking she would be taken away by her father.

"Demelza." He reached for her and wiped away the tear with his thumb. "They might compare you to Elizabeth. But I told you: you are the one that I want."

She sniffled a bit before asking, "Can you not put it off?"

"I can try. Perhaps Uncle will be persuaded to delay it a week, though I'm not sure what the difference would be? Would it not be better to just do this thing and have it be over?"

Her gaze sharpened at him and she pulled away with a frustrated jerk. "The events of the past few days have been enough to fill a lifetime, Ross. I'm sure that a week could make a great deal of difference for me. Especially considering that you only proposed to me two days ago and the day before that I was satisfied with my life as your servant."

"If you had been satisfied, you wouldn't have gotten yourself up in that dress," he retorted, though it wasn't cruelly said. He watched as her face became a mottled combination of a polite blush and a ruddy anger.

"Ross Poldark!" That was the anger he had expected. "Ye shouldn't tease me."

"I'm not teasing," he said. "Demelza, there's little I can say to make you more comfortable with this. But I do want to marry you." He tucked an unruly curl of hair back behind her ear. "I rarely do anything I don't want to do. Nampara wouldn't be the same without your presence."

Her eyelids lowered at that, and he was a bit confused. "I see," she said.

"What can I do to make it clearer to you?"

Demelza shook her head. "There's nothing. You've made yourself very clear. " She took a deep breath and then said, "We can go to supper on Sunday." He nodded. "But you must tell me what I'm to do and not do, Ross. So's I don't shame you."

"You could never," he said, shaking his head back at her. He paused and studied her face. "I'll ride into Truro and check on my order at the drapers." It wasn't what he had meant to say, though it needed saying. "And I'll check on the mine. I'll be back this evening." He stood up and dusted himself off, then put his hand out to Demelza to help her stand. "Come inside."

"I have chores," she reminded.

Ross smirked and pulled her close. "Suppose I have other plans for you?"

She shook her head at him. "Ross."

"Come upstairs with me."

She quirked an eyebrow at him, but said nothing as he led her into the house, his hand never leaving hers. They went straight to the second floor and Ross pulled her back to their bed. To her surprise, he didn't begin to remove their clothes. Instead he said, "Wait here," and pushed her to sit on the bed fully clothed. She set her mouth into a pout and he laughed.

He went out of the room and closed the door. Demelza sighed. What could possibly be the reason for his behavior?

When he came back in a few moments his arms were piled high with clothing, and on top lay the green dress. Demelza felt her face flush. "Ross? What are you doing with those?"

"Just in case the draper cannot finish my order early, I've dug out all my mother's things that my father kept when she died. They're out of fashion, being nearly twenty years old, but they'll do better than what you're wearing when we go to Trenwith. Silk is entirely different. I should have noticed it the moment you came into the parlor wearing it. It has an entirely different sound than your cotton frock. If any adjustments need to be made, Prudie can help you." He settled the assortment of clothing items onto the bed, laying the green dress on top.

"I wouldn't let Prudie touch it," Demelza proclaimed. Ross looked at her face and saw it was a little sad. "I didn't know th' dress was your ma's." She trailed off. "I can't be sorry for it, Ross."

He shook his head. "I don't want you to be." He came closer to her and kissed her forehead. "I'm off."

"Shall I not make you breakfast?" she asked.

"No, I'm not hungry." Then he was gone, and his going oddly seemed to suck the air out of the room.

Demelza sighed. Even if he didn't need to break his fast, she needed more than a dish of tea. She made her way downstairs and began to think of modifications to make to the clothing he had brought her. She desperately tried to push the thought of going to Trenwith out of her head. She had no idea where Jud and Prudie were now, and endeavored to be as quiet as possible so they wouldn't think she was available to be preached at.

She ate quickly before heading back to the bedroom to look at the rest of the clothing. She felt an oddness in her stomach looking at the green dress. For some reason, she didn't want to change it any further. It had already been altered at least once in the past, but she would prefer something simpler. She had loved the look in Ross's eyes when he had seen her in it, once he had gotten over his shock at seeing her in fancy clothes. She rifled through the rest, putting aside some better quality underthings that she could use. A second dress, a cream silk with embroidered flowers and three bows on the bodice, joined the pile for potential alterations.

She sighed and looked down at her own frock. She rarely longed for her days when she had worn her brothers' clothes anymore: even with her stays and petticoats her own dresses were more comfortable to her and easy to work in. The dress was becoming frayed at the edges and she had grown some inches in height, enough so that the hems couldn't be let out any more.

Her musings were interrupted by knocking at the door. There was a short pause, then another knock. Demelza went back downstairs to answer it. Jinny's mother and the wife of Ross's good friend Zack Martin, whose Christian name Demelza had never heard spoken, stood on the doorstep. "Mrs. Zacky?"

"Mister Ross said you may need help with some sewing? I've left Jinny to watch my little ones. I've a fair hand with a needle."

"Oh," Demelza said. "Please come in. He didn't tell 'e he was doing that." The stout lady followed Demelza into the parlor. "I'll just be a moment; the dresses are upstairs." Mrs. Zacky just nodded and sat at one of the table's benches.

Demelza nearly sprinted up the stairs to the bedroom, her heart pounding in her breast. How could she explain? Zacky and Mrs. Martin had known Ross since he was young: perhaps they were used to him making rash, unsound, wild decisions? "Well, it can't be helped now," she whispered to herself. She gathered the two dresses in her arms and went back down to the parlor. She dropped the dresses on the table and snuck a look at Mrs. Zacky from under her lashes.

"These are lovely," said Mrs. Zacky. She let her fingers trace along the silk of the green dress idly. She turned to Demelza then, and took the younger girl's hand in her own. "Demelza. You're shaking. What is going on?"

"Mister Ross and I are getting married," Demelza said. "Reverend Odgers is going to begin announcing the banns on Sunday, and Mister Charles invited both of us to supper at Trenwith on Sunday as well. He and Mister Francis were here and neither were pleased, and now Ross wants to introduce me to his whole family and I don't know how to be." It had all come out in a rush, the first time that anyone other than Ross had heard her reservations. "And he said he had ordered me a new frock at the drapers but he didn't know if it could be hurried, and if not, I am to make over one of these to wear on Sunday." Demelza's hands smoothed over the silk. "This was his ma's. I wore it once," her face flushed, "but it don't feel right to alter it."

"Well, you can't go up to supper at Trenwith in what you're wearing."

Demelza just nodded. "I know."

Mrs. Zacky looked at the cream silk then. "Hold this up, dear, so I can see it completely." Demelza did so. "That will be the easier to alter for you, I think. There is plenty of material here. Let's get started."

* * *

Author's Note: In addition to the show's green silk, a interesting discussion of which can be found here ( just-how-fashionable-are-poldarks-ladies-part-1/), I also used this dress ( . /object/602788) as a model for the second dress of Ross's mother.


	6. Chapter 6

By the time Mrs. Zacky had declared she had to get home, it was mid-afternoon and they had done considerable work on the frock. Demelza was not concerned about finishing it in time for the meal at Trenwith if Ross's order was not able to be hurried. The two women had worked together well, friendly enough without requiring continual conversation. It had been during this time that Demelza had made a decision for herself. If Ross had decided that he wanted her, she was going to do what needed to be done, and no more feeling sorry for herself. He might never say the word 'love' to her, but she loved him. And she had, in varying ways, ever since he had first brought her home to Nampara.

Nampara was more her home than any she had lived in with her parents. More specifically, her father. She barely remembered her mother, only enough to know that she resembled the woman. That had been part of the problems with her father's drinking, Demelza knew, as well as being a convenient outlet for his anger.

Demelza pushed those thoughts away. Instead, she focused on the remaining chores that needed to be finished before Ross returned. She was getting somewhat proficient at calling him 'Ross' in her head, rather than Mister Ross or Sir, though it sometimes still made her stomach squirmy. At least, when they weren't abed.

Jud and Prudie sauntered into the kitchen not long before sunset to find some dinner and alcohol. Jud had been more inclined lately, after the incident with Jim Carter, to drink more than usual and to try and do even less work than before. Demelza didn't like any of it, and nor did Prudie, though at least Jud hadn't been rough with her as he had been previously. "What that, then?" Jud asked, pointing to the pile of material set on the end of the table. Demelza had moved the dresses there to make sure Ross would have enough room to work in the parlor, if he wished to this evening.

"Never you mind," said Demelza.

Prudie gasped just slightly. "Those be two of Miss Grace's gowns!" she said in a fierce whisper to Demelza.

"I know," said Demelza. "He said I could have them."

"What? You?" said Jud. "Too fancy to skivvy, now? And too common to curtsey."

Demelza felt her face flush, but pushed down her ire at Jud. If she couldn't deal with his outright surliness like a lady now, it would be a poor start and everything after this would be a great deal more difficult. She turned to face Prudie rather than confront Jud. " _Ross_ and I have been invited to Trenwith for supper on Sunday." She made sure to emphasize Ross's name. "I needed a dress." Demelza saw Jud reach for the bottle of rum out of the corner of her eye. Prudie's eyes were wide with astonishment.

They had reached a tentative accord for a few moments, interrupted by Ross's return home from the mine. Both Paynters decided discretion was the better tack, and took their vittles and drink away from the house, not even staying in the kitchen. Demelza, despite the fact that it had been only a minor skirmish, felt that she had won something from them: not respect, not yet, but something similar.

She went to greet her soon-to-be husband in the parlor and was somewhat surprised when Ross pulled her toward him and kissed her. The blatant show of affection, even between betrothed people, was unusual. The more Demelza thought about it, however, made her realize that the entire situation was unusual and she should just learn to take it (and Ross) in stride. "Supper is nearly ready."

"Good, I'm ravenous," said Ross. He stripped himself of his greatcoat and coat, unbuttoned his waistcoat, and loosened his cravat. It made him seem wild and untameable. He went to the sideboard to pour himself refreshment as Demelza began bringing plates of food into the parlor.

When they were finally able to sit at the table opposite each other and begin to eat, Demelza watched Ross pour ale for them both before saying, "Thank you for sending Mrs. Zacky. She was very helpful and we were able to take apart the seams of the cream silk to fit me."

Ross nodded as she spoke. "I ended up not going into Truro, but sent one of her sons to the draper with the message about the dress. They sent me a note _assuring_ me that everything will be delivered tomorrow afternoon, but it will not be a bad idea to have another frock to fit you. And they're not doing anyone any good shut up in the chest." He reached across the table and covered her hand with his. "I know this is not what you expected, Demelza. But I do want you to be happy."

"I'm happy, Ross. A might overwhelmed, maybe. But happy, no matter."

He grinned at her reply, and she was pleased to have pleased him. "So you were down the mine all day?" He nodded as he shoveled his food into his mouth. "Ross. You should have come home at midday for a meal. No wonder you're hungry."

Ross shook his head, reaching for the loaf of bread. He tore off a piece and said, "It did me no harm, Demelza."

"Any closer to copper?"

"Henshawe thinks so, but who can say? A mine is a cruel mistress." Demelza simply noded in agreement: what more could be said? They continued to eat in companionable silence, much as they had before deciding to marry. In truth, disregarding the class differences, they had much in common. "And how were Jud and Prudie today?" Demelza stiffened, and Ross sighed. "What did they do now?"

"Nothing, Ross."

"Well, that's not unexpected."

Demelza giggled behind her hand. "Truly. I can handle Jud. He's just not happy about the change in circumstances right now."

"And probably will become even less so the more he drinks," said Ross. "You must tell me if there is anything improper." Demelza nodded.

After the meal, Demelza took the dishes back to the kitchen to be placed in the bucket for washing. Coming back to Ross in the parlor, she began to sit at his feet as she had before, but he reached for her, and pushed her to sit into the chair next to his. "How can I make Sunday easier for you?" he asked, still holding her hands in his.

She took a deep breath, but shook her head. "I don't know, Ross." She paused before saying, "Make sure Mister Charles or Mister Francis don't send me to eat with the servants?"

Ross pulled her to sit on his lap then, and she squealed a bit as she wriggled on his legs to get comfortable. He wrapped one arm around her waist and settled her. "Do you think I should be ashamed of you? Or that they're so much better than you?"

She turned her head away and looked into the fire. In a small voice he could barely hear, she said, "No."

He put his hand on her face and made her look at him. "Because I can assure you that I wouldn't marry you if I were ashamed of you. And you, Demelza, are a good person. There's no one better for me than you."

Her face grew flushed then, an endearing quality he found he liked more and more. "Ross," she said, her voice plaintive and a bit needy.

"Now, you remember my uncle and Francis of course. You can call my uncle sir and Aunt Agatha ma'am, but everyone else by their first names. That's Francis and Elizabeth, and you remember my cousin Verity."

Demelza nodded. Five people other than Ross. She thought she could handle five people for a family supper.

"And you only need to do a small curtsy when you are introduced and then again when we leave."

Ross's other hand, which had been caressing her cheek and smoothing her hair, was grabbed by Demelza and she gasped. "Ross, I can't curtsy! I'll look ridiculous."

"Nonsense." He pushed her up from his lap. "Show me."

Ross watched as Demelza's lips formed a tight line, a sure sign she was concentrating intensely. He watched her grasp her skirt in both hands and try to curtsey, overbalancing on one side and awkwardly standing straight again. "You need not go so low, it's making you overbalance. And dip your head a little." He got up and stood across the room from her, his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. "Lift your skirt so I can see your feet."

Demelza grinned at him. "You just want to look at my legs."

Ross smirked back. He had begun to wonder where the cheeky Demelza had gone, but hadn't the heart to voice the question. "Maybe I do. They are very lovely. Perhaps we could continue those other plans I mentioned this morning?"

"Before you left me to sewing? That was quite cruel, Ross, to get my hopes up like that." The look on her face belied her words: a cheeky grin with her blushing cheeks.

"First, curtsying. Then we'll attend to your hopes for the evening, madam. Let me see your feet." She obligingly gathered enough of the fabric in her hands so he could see her feet. At his nod, she again attempted a curtsy, though she kept his previous improvements in mind and tried to follow them. She still overbalanced, and Ross saw her wobble. "You're going too fast and still too low. Slow and keep your back straight."

Demelza huffed at him. "You're lucky all you men have to do is bow."

"I assure you that I am quite aware of my good fortune at being born male," Ross quipped. "Again. Make sure your back foot doesn't move."

She tried again, and she _was_ improving, though Ross could see that she was also becoming frustrated. "How do you know how to do this, anyways?"

"I've had many a fine lady try to woo me with a curtsy," Ross said with another grin.

Demelza huffed at him again. "I'm sure." She tried the movement again, and it was even better than the previous attempt. "I'm sure not _just_ a curtsy, Ross."

He laughed. "Yes, well. When I was in New York there were quite a few balls and assemblies given. And of course, the last assembly here was eventful." Demelza didn't reply to that. Ross tended to say little about his time in the army in America and while she tended to not ask questions, she did want to know. "I think you have it now, at least enough for our visit to Trenwith. I don't wish to tire you." Ross quickly crossed the room to her, grasped her around the waist, and kissed her. And continued to kiss her for several minutes. He could feel her grasping his shirt, her hands becoming fists in the fabric. His feelings and his desire for her were becoming intense, a fire regularly stoked with her smiles and blushes. "Come to bed with me." It was mostly a statement, though there was a small undercurrent of request. He would not force her to be with him, _ever_.

"Now, Ross? I have chores," she said, which isn't a no. She's smiling as well.

"I think we need to finish those other plans we had," said Ross.

She nodded and allowed him to lead her upstairs.


	7. Chapter 7

Sunday morning dawned bright and clear, with the day starting off cool but promising hours of warm sunshine. Demelza was too worried to notice, however, and she was trying to keep her anxiety from Ross. She had at least slept well, being tired from keeping up the house and trying to help Ross with the other farm chores. He had put his foot down about her working in the fields, even beside him. Instead she had dusted, swept, and polished every surface in Nampara until the house seemed more fit to receive visitors in than Trenwith ever could. Not that Demelza desired that at all: Nampara was a sanctuary where she and Ross could continue to learn about each other without prying, watchful, and disapproving eyes.

As promised the draper had delivered the dress order the previous day, along with new underthings and hair ribbon. A second, smaller box had come as well, containing a small silk ribbon for Demelza to wear about her neck. Her two new dresses were not so drastically different in style that the one she wore most days, except that they fit her height perfectly and made of finer material. It was an embarrassment of riches, actually: with the frock that she had finished altering Demelza had three dresses to choose from, and no idea which would be the best.

Jud and Prudie had been avoiding the house since Demelza had announced that she and Ross were going to Trenwith. Well, they had been avoiding Demelza, and since she had been relegated to Nampara, they were avoiding it as well.

Her musings were interrupted by Ross returning to the master bedroom. "You're awake." He came to the bed and leaned over her to kiss her cheek. "Good morning," he murmured, then moved to lay a kiss on her mouth.

"Mornin', Ross," she said with a smile when he pulled away. "You should have woken me."

"You needed the sleep."

"Well, I have gotten less sleep the past few nights," she said with a grin as she sat up in bed. She only wore one of Ross's old shirts as a night rail.

"I have Prudie making you a dish of tea and some toast. She'll bring it up in a moment."

"Oh Ross, no need for that. I aren't some pampered lady to take breakfast upstairs!" she protested.

"Take advantage of it this morning: if we don't strike copper we'll not have many luxuries like this again."

Demelza could say nothing to that, but she had no point of reference for anything between the poor life with her parents and the luxury of Nampara. "When are we expected, Ross?"

"Mid-afternoon, I should think. We'll walk to Trenwith. Captain Henshawe and Zacky are at the mine today, though I have some paperwork for the mine I need to complete. I'll be in the study most of the day."

Demelza watched as he left the room. She hadn't had the opportunity to ask which dress she should wear. However, she had to dress in _something_ in order to go through the day. Hopefully, before Prudie came upstairs and made a comment about her sharing Ross's bed and wearing his clothes. She quickly got out of bed and changed into her shift and her yellow-striped work frock.

Demelza breathed a sigh of relief to be dressed as a knock at the bedroom door was quickly followed by Prudie entering without invitation. She carried a cup of tea and small plate, and slammed both down onto the dressing table with an unnecessary amount of force. "Too good to come downstairs." It was part statement and part question, said under her breath and to Demelza's back, but it was clearly audible.

She sighed and turned to face the older woman. "Don't, Prudie," she said. "He'll put you out, if ye give trouble. I don't want that."

Prudie just huffed and left the room, though she did take care to not slam the door as she exited. Demelza ignored the food and ran her fingers across each of the gowns. The two new dresses were silk, but only the yellow gown had embroidery, with small flowers and vines. The maroon fabric was simpler, with no additional details. Her fingers traced over the seams of the maroon dress. It really was lovely, but she thought she would keep it to wear at Nampara. Her yellow-striped cotton gown could be passed on or broken down for other uses. That left the new yellow gown and the cream silk from Ross's mother. She and Mrs. Zacky had been able to remove much of the bulk from the frock and provide a slimmer silhouette. The yellow silk would be easier to keep clean as they walked to Trenwith, however. And it looked lovely with her red hair. Ross had chosen the fabric well.

Decision made, she went downstairs. Ross had gone into the study and shut the door. That was a clear sign he didn't wish to be disturbed. With the house being completely cleaned, and Demelza banned from actual field work, she was at a loss for something to keep her hands busy. As the day had continued to be warm and full of sun, she decided to replace all the flowers in the house and make up a bouquet of flowers to take to Trenwith as a gift. She really couldn't help her anxiety, but she hoped being outside and being able to hear the waves on the beach would ease her frazzled nerves.

Ross spent his morning and early afternoon working on calculations for Wheal Leisure. Several times he had wanted to throw the quill aside in frustration. Small, miniscule amounts of copper were being brought up from the mine, but in order for the smelting companies to even entertain the thought of purchasing a mine's copper, they had to be able to do so in bulk. Wheal Leisure was producing nowhere near the required amounts. The best idea he had been able to come up with to ask Francis and his uncle to be allowed to supplement the copper loads of Grambler for the auctions so at least _some_ money was coming in to pay his workers.

With him telling Demelza that the woman about to be made his wife could no longer work in the fields, even if he did, the need for a farm hand was inevitable. He then remembered that he had told Demelza he would also hire Jinny Carter as a kitchen maid. Ross sighed and rubbed at his forehead with his hand. This marriage was certainly an expensive one, for all that he was marrying his maid. He stopped then and chastised himself for his thoughts. He thought briefly of his parents' loving marriage, and while he couldn't quite call the relationship he had with Demelza love yet, he thought that it would provide an opportunity for love. The were of similar mind and got along well, in and out of the bedroom. He smiled to himself at that as he remembered their previous evening together.

His smile broadened as he realized that they had only two more weeks to wait for the banns to be read. The first reading had been this morning. Ross thought about procuring a license from the bishop at Bodmin. It would require him to lay out a guinea to speed up the wedding. Demelza would probably welcome it: this limbo state betwixt and between could not be comfortable for her.

If he and Demelza did not have to interact with the rest of the world, there would be no question. But he could hear the gossip mongers of Truro in his head discussing their relationship even now. Demelza didn't deserve that at all. Another time he was ashamed of his class, as if the Jim Carter incident had not done enough. He threw his quill aside in disgust. With these thoughts he'd never get anything done on his figures.

Ross came out of the study to a quiet house. Coming into the kitchen, he first noticed a large number of cut flowers on the table and then Prudie pretending to tend the fire. "Where's Demelza?"

"Upstairs, Cap'n Ross," Prudie said, though she didn't turn around to address him.

Ross took the stairs to the bedroom two and a time and said, "Demelza!" when he reached the top. The bedroom door was cracked and he opened it to go inside.

Demelza half-turned to face him in the doorway, though she was partially undressed and standing at the wash basin. "Yes, Ross?"

He strode across the room and kissed her fervently. "Will you be ready soon?" It wasn't what he had wanted to say at all.

"Yes," she replied, and pointed to the yellow silk she had laid out on the bed. "All I need to do is put on the dress." His smile could outshine the sun, it seemed to her. She could truly sense that he wanted this to work.

"Let me change quickly and we can go." Ross stripped out of his clothes and changed into a high-necked gray waistcoat and breeches, and pulled out a blue overcoat. Previously he had only worn those clothes when going into Truro, she thought. She stepped into the frock and pulled it up to fasten the bodice at the front. Her hair was already combed and styled with the ribbon Ross had purchased for her. As she moved to tie the other silk ribbon at her throat, Ross gripped one of her hands.

"Ross?"

He pulled out one of the drawers and rummaged about in it for a moment. "Here." He put a small object in her hand. "Wear that on the ribbon."

The pendant was small, the top shaped like a bow. From that a flower-shape fell, decorated with tiny red garnets. "Oh, Ross. It's beautiful."

"I found it in one of the chests; it, too, belonged to my mother." He pulled her hand near to one of the flowers on her dress. "I think it will look nice with the fabric."

She nodded. "I think you are right." She threaded the pendant onto the ribbon and he tied it for her. Turning back to face him, she asked, "Do I look presentable?"

Ross shook his head. "No, not presentable." She stared at him, waiting for him to continue. "You look lovely." He kissed her again, this time on her cheek, and held out his hand to her. "Ready?" She nodded.

When they reached downstairs, Ross helped her with her cloak and put on his greatcoat. Demelza found the bouquet of flowers that she had put together earlier and prepared it to travel to Trenwith. Prudie and Jud were nowhere in the house and neither were in the area surrounding Nampara. Ross sighed. "Some days I do wonder why I keep them on to drink my rum and not work."

Demelza couldn't answer him. She had no no idea why Ross did even half of the things he did and her stomach was too busy tumbling around to think of anything else. She held onto her betrothed's arm as they walked the three miles to Trenwith, though most of the trek was made in companionable quiet. Ross only noted that Grambler looked to have fewer people working the mine, and that the church at Sawle, where the banns had been read that morning, looked quite empty.

Upon reaching the drive up to Trenwith, Demelza pulled at Ross's arm and asked if they could stand for a moment while she caught her breath. "It wasn't that long of a walk," he said.

"Ross," she said. "Let me try to calm down a bit. My heart feels like it could fly out of my chest."

He took both her hands in his. "It will be fine. You will do wonderfully, you'll see."

She took a deep breath and nodded. He returned the nod and led them to the front door and pulled the bell. A servant quickly let them in and took their overthings. Ross led Demelza into the front reception room and they were met by Verity as hostess. "Verity!" said Ross. He bowed slightly to her, and Demelza took this as a cue to curtsy. Ross's smile confirmed to her that it was well done, or at least not poorly done.

Demelza had met Verity on a number of occasions before, though not since the relationship between her and Ross had changed. Verity and her suitor Captain Blamey had met at Nampara for awhile before the duel between Blamey and Francis that had torn them apart. That had been over a year ago and still Verity looked haunted.

"My dear. I'm so glad to meet you. You look lovely," said Verity.

Demelza managed to choke out a small "Thank you," before then saying, "These are for you and your family," as she thrust the flowers at Verity.

"Thank you, my dear." Taking the bouquet, Verity gave a few crisp instructions to a hovering servant before returning to the couple. Then Verity grasped Demelza's hands. "Father and Aunt Agatha are in the parlor. Francis and Elizabeth will be joining us soon," said Verity. "Will you come with me?" Demelza nodded. "I've been so excited since Father told me you were to join us for supper."

Demelza could hear Ross footsteps following as Verity led them through the warren of rooms on the first floor. The differences between Trenwith and Nampara were like night and day. Trenwith was brighter, she couldn't deny it. There were more windows, and a majority of the walls were plastered and painted or papered in light colors, a stark contrast to Nampara's bare stone. However, between the dark wood paneling in some of the rooms, as well as the general coldness of the house, Demelza found that even though Trenwith was impressive, she much prefered Ross's home. She also couldn't imagine needing so many rooms! The thought of having enough guests to fill each of them overwhelmed her.

The parlor was lit by three windows, numerous candles, and the fire in the hearth. It was almost too warm for a lovely June afternoon, but Demelza thought it was in deference to the two older people in the room. The older woman, Aunt Agatha she assumed, dozed in a chair by the fire while Charles Poldark sat at the table reading a newspaper. The grandfather clock chimed four o'clock, Ross came in front of her and cleared his throat. "Uncle. Aunt Agatha." He gave a little bow, reached for Demelza's hand, and pulled her forward. "This is Demelza." She gave a little curtsy and prided herself that she didn't fall flat on her face. "We are engaged. The first reading of the banns was this morning."

Charles didn't look at all surprised, but he obviously hadn't shared the news with Agatha. "Engaged? Why did no one tell me of this? No one tells me anything!" Verity also looked shocked, but pleased at the same time.

"We're telling you now, Aunt," said Ross. "Uncle invited us to supper and I wanted to introduce you to Demelza."

"Come now, and sit by me, bud," said Agatha, gesturing to Demelza with one wrinkled hand.

Ross gave the hand he held a squeeze and let go. Demelza sat in a chair next to the old woman and sitting sideways, faced her.

"Now, bud, where are ye from?" asked Agatha.

Demelza shot a quick look at Ross under her lashes, but his face held no assistance at all. "Illuggan, ma'am."

"Who do we know from Illuggan, then?" Agatha paused in her musings. "The Carhews? The Perrians?"

Demelza's answer, whatever it may have been, was cut off my Charles's snort of derision. She could feel herself blushing as she said, "No, ma'am."

Further awkwardness from Charles or Agatha was interrupted by Verity, who said, with great excitement, "We're so pleased, Ross. Congratulations to you both. When is the wedding to be?"

"In two Sundays, after the third reading of the banns," replied Ross.

"So soon?" asked Verity as she sat across from Demelza and Agatha.

"I see no reason to wait," said Ross. He came behind Demelza's chair and put his hands on the back of it. Demelza could feel the heat of his hands at her back even though he wasn't touching her.

"Indeed," said Charles with a grin. "I think it an excellent idea, and I'm sure Francis agrees with me."

"Father!" scolded Verity.

As if the mention of his name had summoned him, Francis and Elizabeth came into the parlor. Ross gave another small bow while Demelza stood and gave a small curtsy. "Welcome," said Francis, though he stayed near the doorway instead of entering the room completely. Elizabeth hovered near the doorway as well, though she carried a vase with Demelza's flowers.

"Thank you for having us, cousin," Ross said as he went to Francis and shook his hand.

"A drink?"

"Yes, please,' said Ross. The two men moved to the sideboard to pour drinks.

"Elizabeth, sit over there," said Agatha, pointing to a settee across from her. "You, bud, " she said as she patted Demelza's hand, "sit next to her. Verity, in the chair next to them. I want to see how you all measure up."

"Aunt Agatha!" Verity exclaimed.

"Go on, child."

Before following Agatha's directives, Elizabeth put the vase on the small table between Agatha and Demelza. Ross watched, dumbfounded, as the three women settled themselves on the settee and chair under Agatha's assessing eye, like birds roosting. Demelza was an interesting mix of the two, with Elizabeth being the fairest in coloring and Verity the darkest. None of them were comfortable with the scrutiny, he could tell. He watched as Elizabeth took Demelza's hand in what seemed like understanding, and Demelza almost jumped in shock and surprise at the touch. His gaze moved to his uncle and he saw the older man watching with a frown. Could nothing please Charles Poldark when it came to Ross?

"A might coarse, compared to Elizabeth. And Verity. But doubtless she'll polish up sufficient."

Demelza could feel her face flush. Oh, this had been a terrible idea. What had Ross been thinking?

"Thank you for the flowers, Demelza," Elizabeth said. "They're very pretty."

 _Oh_. What would she say to her? "You're welcome. The flowers around Nampara are all starting to show their colors, it seems a waste to not show them off."

"Mama despaired at my ever becoming proficient at flower arranging. I do not have the eye for it."

"Nor I," said Verity. "Perhaps we will have to come to Nampara so you can show us?"

Verity's smile was so _sincere_ , but oh, Demelza did not want them to come to Nampara! Her lack of reply must have been an issue, as Ross instead answered for her. "That would be lovely. You are both welcome to visit at anytime." Demelza could only nod in agreement.

This interaction was interrupted by Charles clearing his throat. "What news of Wheal Leisure? Struck copper yet?"

Ross shook his head. "Not yet, Uncle, though some small amounts are coming up. That was something I wish to discuss with you and Francis, actually."

Demelza watched the older man out of the corner of her eye. "Indeed? Let us leave the ladies for a bit and adjourn to my study?"

Ross nodded. His gaze moved to Demelza's and he could see the desperation and begging in her eyes to not leave her alone. It couldn't be helped, however, and better to leave her to her devices now, in such a small, family setting so she knew she could handle it.

Demelza watched at the men exited the room, speaking of copper and mining. Aunt Agatha, after her "measuring up," was already dozing in the late afternoon. This left the three women to entertain themselves. "How is your little boy, Elizabeth?" she asked. The child seemed the safest topic.

"Geoffrey Charles is my joy," the other woman said. "Between him and their father, Verity and I keep quite busy here."

Demelza could only nod. She still felt betwixt and between, and probably would even after she and Ross married.

"Do you have any experience with children, my dear?" asked Verity.

"Oh, yes," Demelza replied. "I have six younger brothers."

"Six?" Elizabeth and Verity both gasped the word together. "I can't even imagine," said Elizabeth. Demelza gave her a questioning look. "I am an only child," she said.

"Oh. I can't imagine _that_ ," said Demelza. "But my mother died when I was young and I acted as their mother until I left."

"Your father?" asked Elizabeth softly.

"Too busy in the mines keeping us fed," Demelza said simply. "And the boys to soon all follow in his footsteps."

Elizabeth looked as if she wished to have her child in her arms. "I am busy enough with one; I cannot imagine six running around Trenwith."

Verity giggled then. "It would be similar to when Francis, Ross, Claude, and I were young. We got into all types of mischief."

Elizabeth and Demelza both stared at her. "Who is Claude?" asked Demelza.

"Oh." Verity let out a soft breath. "Claude Anthony, Ross's younger brother. I was almost 13 when he died, not even a year after their mother." She looked to Demelza. "He hasn't told you?"

Demelza shook her head. "Talking about the past makes him sad."

Verity just nodded. "Ross and Francis were away at school when he passed. It was not a good time." Her gaze moved to focus on her hands, as Elizabeth and Demelza shared a sad look.


	8. Chapter 8

"Well, Ross?" Charles asked as they walked to the study. "Some plan for Wheal Leisure?"

Ross sighed internally. Charles Poldark would not approve of this scheme at all, he feared. "Yes, uncle. We are yet to strike a large lode of copper at Leisure. We find enough to keep us working, but not enough to induce a smelting company to purchase." Both Francis and Charles were following his train of thought, he could tell. "I still have to pay my workers, uncle. And keep myself and my servants fed. I thought, perhaps, if I could contribute to the tonnage Grambler takes to auction, that would be a steady stream of cash until we strike significantly."

Charles let out a guffaw. "The cheek of you! Just like your father."

"Uncle..."

"You know the prices we are getting from the smelting companies barely ensures my own income."

Ross frowned and let his eyes pass over to Francis briefly. "I did not, uncle."

"I doubt any ore that Leisure could add to the tonnage would help increase the profits."

"I am sorry to hear that," said Ross. "It appears that I will put that ore aside until it can be added to the tonnage from Leisure eventually." He sighed, this time not to himself.

Charles grinned, though not kindly. "The hazards of owning a mine, as you remember me telling you?"

"Of course, uncle," Ross replied.

"Of course, I'm sure your betrothed has nothing to bring to the marriage," said Francis, frowning.

Ross felt himself bristle as he turned to Francis. "I was well aware of what I was getting into when I proposed, cousin." He took the opportunity to take another sip of brandy. If it took nearly the whole of the glass, well, neither of the other men commented.

"Ross."

His uncle so rarely used his given name that he couldn't help but turn back to the older man in concern.

"You know you don't have to do this. There are any number of eligible girls in Truro that would consent to be your wife. Is she demanding you marry her? Your father was known for his philandering, both before and after your mother..."

Ross put up his hand to stop his uncle's tirade. "Uncle. I asked Demelza to marry me. She is not _blackmailing_ me." His emphasis on the word made it clear that he found this whole situation sordid. He looked at Francis, whose face was wan and drawn. This couldn't be the same situation Francis had had with Charles about his marriage: Elizabeth was ideal for his purposes. _Elizabeth_. The thought of her simultaneously made his heart beat faster and a knife twist in his gut. It wasn't fair to Demelza to continually think on Elizabeth. It wasn't fair to Francis or Elizabeth to continually think of her.

Charles merely let out a _hmph_ of dissatisfaction and left the room to return to the parlor. Obviously the discussion of money, copper, Grambler, and Leisure was at an end. Ross, too, turned to go down the hallway back to the parlor when he was stopped by a hand on his arm. "Francis?"

"I could speak with George about a loan, Ross."

Ross let out a small breath. "Money is not truly the issue, Francis. I have Pascoe as my banker, and he is willing to let me take out another loan if I need it, with Nampara as security. I... You are friends with George, but I am not. We cannot be easy in each other's presence, and I would not take out a loan from him unless I was most desperate."

Francis reared back as if slapped. "Ross. Yes, he is my friend. I believe him honorable..." Francis trailed off as Ross shook his head.

"Francis. Wheal Reath closed because the Warleggans would no longer extend loans. I'm no lord, cousin. If Lord Bassett could not convince the Warleggans to continue his loans and felt the only way out was a pistol, I'm not sure that if I fell on hard times I could do much better. The miners, the villagers, Demelza: none of them deserve that if I couldn't meet my obligations." It was not something Ross liked to contemplate; he was sure no man did. "I have to keep my hopes up about Leisure and striking copper."

Ross could tell Francis was glad for the small change in topic. "You have Wheal Grace as well."

"I can't reopen Grace until we find something at Leisure. It's almost entirely underwater and has been for nearly twenty years. I also don't have a comprehensive plan for it. I'm afraid Leisure will be my priority for some time to come." Ross paused. "And what of Grambler?"

"Mortgaged. At least half of it, from what I understand." Francis grasped his hands behind his back as the two began to walk again. "Father does not share much with me. He keeps the secrets of mine-owning to himself."

"That is...unfortunate," said Ross. "Especially with him being in ill health, though I'll grant he looks fair today."

Francis let out a bark of laughter so like Charles's that Ross nearly turned, thinking the older man was behind them rather than already in the parlor. "Choake hasn't bled him yesterday or today. He's a fool. Promising Father to make him well for Christmas dinner."

Ross looked straight into Francis's eyes: they were of the same height and Ross could easily read the worry and fear there. "If there is anything I can do, please let me know."

"Of course. LIkewise," said Francis. He turned away then, not wanting to further the discussion.

They passed the threshold back into the parlor and both were surprised when the three younger women looked at them with concern. Before the subject could be broached, however, Mrs. Tabb, the housekeeper, announced that supper was ready.

Agatha, belying her age, was up and about faster than anyone expected, with Charles giving her his arm to lead her from the room. Verity quickly followed to ensure everything was ready, and then Elizabeth and Demelza stood. Demelza hung back, allowing Elizabeth to go to Francis and leave before making her way to Ross. She gripped one of his hands in hers, tightly squeezing it. "Demelza? Are you alright?" he asked, squeezing back.

She nodded. "I just don't want to shame you."

"You could never. Now come along."

The front reception room where they had entered Trenwith now was the main dining room. The long table had been moved to the middle of the space and set with seven places. Charles already sat at the head with Agatha on his left. While the dinner was formal, they would not fill the entire table, so Francis did not sit at the foot of the table in the other primary position.

Ross felt Demelza grip his fingers again as she realized that she would possibly not be sitting near him. The men were outnumbered by ladies, but only just. It was customary that husbands and wives not sit together to dine. However, that would probably mean that Ross would be sat next to Elizabeth, and that thought sat poorly with him. So he pulled Demelza with him as he sat next to Agatha and gestured for Demelza to sit beside him. That would also keep her away from his uncle.

Francis and Verity both looked puzzled at his actions but said nothing. Francis led Elizabeth to the chair on Charles's right, sat next to her, and then Verity sat next to him. Both Demelza and Ross breathed a sigh of relief.

The dinner continued well, with the food and wine flowing copiously and the small talk being enough to keep everyone content. Ross could tell that Demelza was watching him and Verity like a hawk stalking a mouse to ensure she did everything correctly. It was something he had not even considered: when they ate together at Nampara everything was so much simpler, from the fare to the dishes they ate off to the lack of servants. More than once he had gently put his hand on her waist to keep her from jumping up to take care of something that a servant would then do. Instead he made sure she ate, knowing she had a good appetite and hoping her nerves had subsided.

Some of the talk was political, including discussion of the situation in France and in America. The exiled French minister Calonne had recently come to Britain, and was being wined and dined in London despite the fact that France had so recently been an enemy of Britain in the American war. It turned Ross's stomach, but he kept his mouth shut on the subject. The most recent news from America was of a failed revolt in Massachusetts and the subsequent calling for a stronger national government. Another subject on which he would keep his own counsel. It seemed there was much that would fall under that category for him.

Ross thought to himself that the evening had gone well, when he noticed the shadows of twilight beginning to creep through the windows. He tapped one finger on Demelza's wrist to get her attention as she had been speaking with Verity as the last of the food had been cleared from the table. "Ross?"

"We must be going, Demelza. I don't wish to be abroad with you when it is full dark."

"Oh, of course," said Verity. "My apologies for not thinking of it."

Ross shook his head. "We both appreciated the hospitality of your table, and invite you all to Nampara at your leisure."

Verity gave the order to one of the servants to bring Ross's coat and Demelza's cloak. "Thank you both for coming," she said. She reached for Demelza's hands. "I so enjoyed speaking with you, my dear. And I shall call soon."

Agatha was left dozing in her chair and Charles did not follow them to the door, but Francis, Elizabeth, and Verity did. "Thank you so much for coming, Demelza," said Elizabeth.

"Thank you for having us," said Demelza, as demurely as possible. She gave a slight curtsy as Ross had instructed her, the ladies responded in kind, and Francis gave a short bow. Ross tipped his hat to them and embraced Francis before taking Demelza's arm.

"Thank you," he said to the group before turning and leading Demelza away from the house for their return journey.

Neither looked back to see Elizabeth watching them.


	9. Chapter 9

Demelza breathed a small sigh of relief as she and Ross walked, her arm in his, away from Trenwith. "That wasn't so terrible, was it?" Ross asked, smiling at Demelza.

She shook her head as they walked on the path that would take them back to Nampara. "No, Ross. It went well, I thought." She paused. "Though I thought my heart might fly out of me when I saw Elizabeth come in with the flowers, even if I had made sure to not include any cornflowers." Demelza could feel herself grit her teeth on the word. She would not soon forget Elizabeth comparing her to the easily wilting flowers. It would take her only marginally less time to forgive the poor cornflowers.

"Demelza." Ross's voice was strident and insistent. He pulled her to face him as they stopped on the path. "You did well. We did well. I know this is new to you. I'm choosing you."

"Yes, Ross." It wasn't quite by rote, but her tone wasn't particularly full of faith for him.

"Demelza."

"Ross."

He sighed and gripped her hand in his even tighter. "What can I do to make you realize that this is what I want?"

She shook her head. "It isn't that, Ross," she said. She pulled him with her to start walking again.

"Then what is it?"

There were times that he could sound a bit like a petulant child, and this was one of them. She didn't immediately answer him, her gaze looking far out into the distance as if she could see the ocean even this close to Trenwith. "I'm just doing my best to get my bearings. It is difficult, being 'twixt and 'tween, while we wait for the banns." She ended with a shrug, saying, "I'm doing my best to be a lady, Ross."

"Oh, my dear." He couldn't, wouldn't, call her _love_ yet. "To me you are a better lady than everyone else in Cornwall." He paused, though they kept walking the path that would lead them to Nampara. He cleared his throat. "Would you prefer I go to Bodmin for a license from the Bishop?"

She stopped walking then. "What does that mean?"

He sighed and wished he wasn't wearing his hat: it would have suited him to be able to run his hands through his hair. "We could marry as soon as it was signed and I returned from Bodmin. Or you could go with me to Bodmin."

She smiled, a reaction he hadn't quite expected. "And the cost of such a license?"

He waved the thought away. "A guinea, but if it helps…."

"No, Ross," she said, interrupting his speech and prompting them to begin walking again. "I have a feeling that would make the gossip worse, actually. Thank you for the thought."

He nodded but said nothing. She wasn't wrong. The gossip mongers would have a field day if they were married by license now.

"What did you uncle have to say about the copper from Wheal Leisure?" she asked.

"Nothing good. Apparently Grambler is heavily mortgaged and there is little return keeping it solvent. He can't allow me to add to the copper there: he would have nothing to pay me with. That situation is riding for a fall, I think. I'll tell Henshawe to keep what we have in the mine office or in the library at Nampara until it will be worth a smelting company's time."

"Oh. I'm sorry he didn't take your idea to heart," she said.

"We'll manage, at least awhile," said Ross. "I'm hoping we won't have to resort to using gunpowder, but it is a possibility."

She liked when he spoke with her about the mine. It made her feel even more a part of his life, that he thought highly enough of her to discuss his work with her. Most husbands did not, she knew. "It was good to see Verity happy about something. Do not be surprised if she convinces your uncle to let her attend the wedding or visit Nampara soon."

Demelza could see Ross's brow crinkle in confusion at that statement. "Verity is unhappy?" he asked.

She tightened her grip on his arm. "Ross! She's still in love with Captain Blamey. Isn't it obvious?"

"Not to me," he groused. "She should forget him; it is an unsuitable match." He hoped Demelza hadn't been able to detect his stiffening at those words: he couldn't forget Francis telling him that his attachment with Demelza was just as unsuitable.

"Oh, Ross." She breathed out a small sigh. "That is unkind. Love is hard to deny. And shouldn't be."

Whether Demelza meant it to or not, that statement felt like a slap in his face, and he said nothing in reply. They continued to walk the three miles back to Nampara in near silence, and it wasn't a comfortable one. Ross could see Demelza occasionally turn her face to look at him in some concern, but he did not acknowledge the action.

It was not until they had almost reached Nampara that she spoke again. "Ross? Did I say something to make you angry?" It was said softly, though not hesitantly. Demelza had decided that she would not shy away from these new situations she found herself in, and that included when she disagreed with her future husband. She didn't fear him turning her out, not really, though she didn't like the silence.

"No," he replied. "I'm just thinking."

She nodded, but said nothing in reply. His hand moved around her waist and he placed a kiss on her temple. Demelza turned to look at him, but even though it was dark his attention was turned away from her towards the horizon. Wheal Leisure provided a small beacon of light at the above-ground workings. However, Demelza doubted Ross's thoughts were on Leisure.

Indeed, his thoughts were not concerned with the mine. They would find copper, or not, and he had no control over that. Instead, he realized what a step he would be taking in marrying. It didn't even matter that it was Demelza he was marrying. He had never shared his home with someone who was equal to him: he had been a child or adolescent under his father's hand or a wounded, bachelor soldier. It was one thing to bring Demelza into his bed, but an entirely separate thing to have her in his bedroom. _Their_ bedroom.

While marriage had always been an eventuality, he had never thought of the actual physical manifestations of having a woman in his life permanently and the changes that would wrought in him. Especially with his mother's death and his father's philandering. Joshua Poldark had never brought any of those women to Nampara and none had ever been considered for the role of stepmother, so it had been nearly twenty-years since Nampara had felt the hand of a woman not a servant. He couldn't argue that he hadn't been like his father, as even his relationship with Elizabeth had not been one that had engendered thoughts of her being mistress of Nampara. It had been a first love that denied all barriers and truths and realities.

If what he was feeling now was anything similar to the impacts on the life changes that were being pushed onto Demelza, he finally understood why she felt so out of her depth. He could say she was a lady and his wife as often as possible, but how often would he have to say "wife" before he thought of her as that first rather than his maid? At least in his head. He wouldn't admit it to her, but even he was still learning.

"And what did you ladies speak of while we were in the study?" he asked, trying to take control of his roiling thoughts.

"Oh, we spoke of children," said Demelza. Ross took a sharp intake of breath between his teeth. "I asked about Geoffery Charles and mentioned I had six younger brothers."

His grip tightened ever so slightly around her waist and she could feel him tense a bit. "I see."

She turned and smiled at him. "It seemed the safest topic once Aunt Agatha had fallen asleep again. Mothers can talk about their children for ages." She paused for a brief moment before asking, "Did you talk of aught else with your cousin and uncle that Leisure and Grambler?"

Ross let out a little huff. "We spoke of George. Francis intimated he could secure me a loan if necessary, which I declined."

They were nearly at Nampara. Demelza knew that Prudie and Jud would have been abed long before, and it appeared that neither had kept a candle lit for them, as the house appeared to meld into the surrounding dark. "Do you still have work for Wheal Leisure or are you for bed?" she asked. Ross had removed his hand from her waist as they entered the house, but she could nearly feel the imprint the heat of it had left on her skin, even through layers of fabric. She knew she should not share herself with him so freely before they were wed, but also felt that denying them both now would be like closing the stable door after the horse had bolted.

"You go. I'll be up shortly," said Ross. He lit two candles and handed one to her. "Of course, again, you're welcome to sleep where you like."

"Ross. Don't be silly."

He kissed her then, soft and sweet, on the lips. The second kiss was more insistent. "I'm assuming since you got into your frock, you don't need help getting out of it?"

Even in only the light of the two candles he could see her blush. "I'll manage," she stammered, turning to head up the stairs.

Ross smiled as he watched her go. He gaze traveled to the study, where he could make out several piles of papers on his desk regarding Leisure's finances. Just the thought gave him a headache, much less the actual work. If he were honest with himself, no matter how long he looked at the numbers, they would not give him the answers he wanted. Bed then. He raked the fire so it would be ready for morning and then quickly followed Demelza.

When he entered the bedroom, she was sitting at the dressing table, still in her yellow gown, combing out her curls. "Ross?" she asked, turning to face the doorway.

"I decided," he crossed the room, swept her into his arms, and kissed her again, all lips and teeth and tongue. "I need to be with you tonight, wife."

She let out a small _tsk_ sound. "I'm not your wife yet."

He took her hand and put it on his breast, over his heart. "In here you are."

He saw her eyes grow wide. "Oh, Ross. That be the kindest thing anyone ever said to me."


	10. Chapter 10

For Demelza, the next week passed quietly, if not quickly. As the summer began to bear down on Cornwall, she could tell that Ross would soon have to relent on her working outside in the fields. There was just too much to be done, especially if Jud and Prudie weren't going to pitch in fully. Jinny couldn't be hired quite yet, so Ross had asked Mrs. Zacky if one of her younger children could work for him. The family had jumped at the chance: at his age, the boy could earn a better wage above ground rather than in the mines and it kept him away from exposure to all the lung irritants below.

She and Ross were still trying to figure out how she would now fit into life at Nampara. She had always worked at something and didn't think that she would enjoy the pampered, quiet life that Elizabeth enjoyed at Trenwith. She knew he wouldn't expect her to go calling on society ladies all day long, every day. But Nampara was no Trenwith. Ross had said to her one time that his father had been a second son, so he had received the worse land and mine and less money for an inheritance from Ross's grandfather than Charles Poldark had. It showed in Nampara, which skirted closer to the dwellings of the miners in Mellin than Trenwith, no matter how the two were compared. There was always work to be done.

On Thursday morning at breakfast, just as Demelza was beginning to become snappish regarding Ross's pronouncement of no field work, she had received a letter from Verity. When she had tried to hand the note to Ross, he defiantly crossed his arms and would not take it. His actions made her want to stomp her foot in frustration. It had taken her some minutes to decipher it: she was better at reading than writing, but Verity's script was much fancier than what Ross wrote out for her to study. "'I should like to call on you for tea this afternoon,'" Demelza read, "'if you or Ross have no objection.'"

Her gaze turned back to Ross when she finished reading the note aloud. She had no excuse to make. The house was still so clean it shone. Ross wasn't sure that Demelza hadn't been in the stable doing the same for want of a better task.

"Not that it matters, but I have no objection. I wouldn't expect to see me, however. I'll either be with Jud and the Martin boy or taking a turn in the mine." He watched as her fingers clenched in the fabric of the apron she wore over the new maroon dress he had purchased. It wasn't in anger: it was more a nervous habit of her that she still hadn't been able to work out. He had noticed it on previous occasions.

She sighed. "I wish you would join us."

Ross shook his head. "I think it would be better without me." He smirked. "You can tell all my secrets."

She did smile at that. "Oh, Ross, your secrets are either already known to all of Cornwall or they aren't worth knowing."

He gave a mock huff. "My lady, you wound me."

She _tsked_ at him and went back to her breakfast. "More likely Verity will be the one telling stories rather than me."

"Now I am concerned," Ross said.

Demelza could tell he was trying to be serious, but the mirth in his eyes gave him away. "Off with you, Ross. I've chores."

He stood up from the table, kissed her, and ran his hand over her hair. "I'll be back for dinner."

She grabbed his other hand in hers and said, "Be careful. At the mine."

Ross, mid-turn, stopped short at her statement. "Demelza?"

She shook her head. "I don't have a sense of doom or anything of the like. Just seemed like something a...wife would say." She gave him a small smile.

Ross returned her smile with a wide grin. "Well, that's good, _wife_." He bent down again and kissed her forehead. "Soon, Demelza. We'll be married in truth."

Demelza nodded, then watched as he walked out of the kitchen. As she heard the front door slam shut she sighed. Verity would be expected mid-afternoon, and Demelza planned to show her soon-to-be husband's cousin that Ross wasn't going to be ashamed by her.

One thing she had been doing was baking. After the trip to Trenwith and the anticipation of either Verity or Elizabeth (or both) calling at Nampara, Demelza had made a number of attempts to bake something fancier and sweeter than a loaf of bread to share. They always had plenty of clotted cream and jam for anything she made, and Ross had been a willing tester for all her endeavors. He found her a book of recipes from the library, but as she had never cooked that way, she had barely given the text a second glance. Her last undertaking had produced something she thought Verity would enjoy: sweet and substantial enough for cream and jam while still being light enough to accompany tea.

At noon she walked out to the fields with a cold lunch for Ross and the others, mostly to keep her from pacing throughout the house and making herself more nervous. Her mood affected even Garrick, who circled around Nampara barking regularly when he wasn't coming in and out of the kitchen, the only room in the house he could occupy. She found the group harvesting grass for hay in one of the lower meadows. They appeared to have had a successful morning, with a large number of haystacks taking shape over a large area.

When she got close enough to be heard she called Ross's name. He called her's back and straightened so she could see him over the top of the grass.

As she neared Ross, she opened the basket she had brought. "I brought you some food. For Jud and the Martin boy as well." When she reached him, she passed him a meat pie and a bottle of ale. She gave the same to Jud and the boy, whose name she thought was John. He was very quiet and rarely said much to anyone.

"Demelza," said Ross. He grasped her hand and pulled her away from the others into the grass with him.

"Ross!" Her tone indicated a token protest, more at their surroundings than his actions.

He backed her against a haystack and her protests were thoroughly interrupted as Ross gripped her waist and kissed her with as much passion as she had seen from him since their first night together. By the time they separated, both were taking deep breaths, trying to calm their heartbeats.

"Judas, Ross." Demela could feel her face flushing and knew it wasn't due to the sunshine. "What...?"

Her sentence remained unfinished as he drew her back to him. He bent his head near to hers and in her ear whispered, "When you get to pacing Nampara, and I know you are, think of my kiss. And how much I am looking forward to you being my wife in law as in all other matters."

She sighed, but it was in relief and joy. "Ross." He saw her eyes flutter closed for a moment before they opened again and she said, "I just came to bring you a meal."

He chuckled, still near her ear and she felt the small puff of air. "I wish you were the meal, my dear. Alas, neither of us has time for that."

"Judas!" Her tone could not be further from the indignant one her word usually indicated. "Well, I did bring you one of the scones as well. Something sweet." She smiled and put a finger to his lips. "Flattery will get you nothing, Ross Poldark." She let out a little laugh as he pouted. She pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Don't keep me waiting too long this evening, Ross." She inwardly cheered at not stuttering on his first name: it had taken nearly two weeks but it was starting to be easier.

"I will see you at home," he said, his voice following her as she walked back to Nampara.

The walk and encounter with Ross had calmed her nerves considerably. That, and the thought that Verity was the most likely of all of Ross's family to be supportive and kind. She had changed from the maroon dress into the new yellow frock when she returned to the house. The more she wore it the more she liked it, and was impressed with Ross's ability to pick fabric.

Demelza had been expecting to hear hoofbeats and was startled to hear only a knock at the front door. Knowing Prudie should have been about, she hesitated to answer it. When it was followed by a second, however, she resigned herself to answer it herself.

Turning the handle of Nampara's heavy front door shouldn't have felt different, but it did. Two weeks ago, her status was of servant and when she answered the door it was to show someone in to see Ross. Less than two weeks from now she would be Ross's _wife_ and mistress of this house. Demelza mentally shook herself free of her thoughts when she saw Verity in the doorway.

The older woman gave a smile and they both dropped a small curtsey before Verity came forward to grip Demelza's hands. "My dear! Thank you for allowing me to call! I know it was short notice."

Demelza just shook her head and said, "Please, come in." She looked past Verity out into the yard before saying, "Did you walk?"

"Oh yes, it was lovely. Francis and Father have gone to the mine. Geoffrey Charles was fussy and only wanted his mother. I needed a long walk."

As Demelza lead Verity into the dining room-come-parlor, Verity's step halted just a brief moment. She realized that Verity had not been back at Nampara since the duel between Francis and Captain Blamey. If, as Demelza suspected, she was still in love with the man, it had to be difficult to sit here and drink tea as if nothing had happened.

Verity quickly recovered, however. "Demelza, the flowers are lovely. You do have a good eye for them."

Demelza smiled. "They make it easy for me, being so pretty."

Verity smiled back and sat on the wooden bench seat, leaving Demelza Ross's much more comfortable chair. She was genuinely taken by surprise and didn't really know how to proceed. "Shall I serve tea?"

She watched as Verity's brows furrowed. "Do you not have a servant for that?"

Demelza sighed. "I try to not rely on Prudie for such things. We're going to hire Jinny Carter as a kitchen maid, but she won't start for near a month. I've already spoken to her of it, well, generally so. Until then, I can manage."

Verity's smile returned. "I see. Please, tea would be lovely."

Demelza had prepared the tea tray prior to Verity's arrival and all was in order. She only needed to wait for the water to boil. It didn't take long, but even so she was keenly aware of the woman sitting alone in Nampara's parlor. She took a deep breath and willed herself to be calm. She poured the water into the teapot and picked up the tray.

Returning to the other room, she didn't wait for any acknowledgement from Verity before saying, "Ross won't be able to join us: he'll be at the mine all afternoon."

"Oh," said Verity. "Well, that's a pity. I suppose we will have to entertain each other, my dear."

Demelza smiled, but suspected it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I asked him to stay for the afternoon or to at least return for tea, but he said no. However," she said, and this time her smile did make her eyes sparkle," he assures me that these are the best scones that he's ever had. I've been trying recipes for near a week."

Verity's smile was small and tight. "I see. Well, I'd love to try them."

Demelza wish the floor would swallow her. It was becoming painfully obvious that they had nothing in common. Did Verity even know where the kitchen was in Trenwith? Demelza doubted it, she thought meanly to herself. Knowing the tea was sufficiently steeped, she began to make a cup for Verity. "How do you take your tea?"

"One sugar and a little milk, please."

She fixed the two cups of tea and moved back to Ross's chair. She wished she could stomp her foot in frustration, though she knew it would do no good. Whose idea had this call been, anyways. She watched as Verity took her first bite of the scone. The other woman's eyes fluttered shut in pleasure.

Opening her eyes quickly, Verity said, "These are wonderful, Demelza. I agree with Ross; I've never had better." Her smile gentled, and Demelza felt her hopes for this visit begin to return, though slowly.

They sat in companionable silence while each woman sipped tea. Demelza could see Verity's face set, as if deciding something.

"Ross is not just a cousin, you know, and more than a friend. He is like a brother to me," said Verity. Demelza didn't know how to reply, so kept her mouth shut and just nodded.

"Has he told you anything about why he joined the army?"

The war was _definitely_ not a topic that Demelza had thought Verity would bring up, and she shook her head. "He... Neither of us like to speak of before," she said simply.

Verity nodded. "He was only 11 when his mother died. His father and mine had sent Ross and Francis away to school. He got into fights there, nothing too troublesome. But when he returned home at 18, Nampara and Cornwall weren't enough. He gambled and ran afoul of customs officials, even if nearly every man in Cornwall smuggles rum and brandy. He, however, got caught." She sighed. "When he came home...he was changed. I knew it would be so, but I wasn't prepared to see it. Oh, the scar is the most obvious, of course, but not all wounds leave external evidence."

Demelza listened, but she gazed at the fire in the hearth rather than at Verity. Where was the woman going with this?

"I was so pleased for him and for myself when he decided to stay and yet afraid for him as well. And when Father told me you two were to be married, I'll admit my first reaction was shock."

Demelza felt her face flush with embarrassment. Would there be no way to have the Trenwith Poldarks accept her?

"But when you both came to supper on Sunday, my surprise became relief and joy." Demelza finally looked up at that statement. "He is very dear to me, and I want him to be happy. You make him happy, my dear."

Demelza took a swift sip of tea. "I do try."

"He was so...broken, when he came back from the war. He hides it well. With Elizabeth marrying Francis, I worried about him, constantly. But I see I no longer have a cause for worry."

Demelza felt as if a weight had been taken off her. One acceptance from a member of Ross's family could ease the way with them all.

"Aunt Agatha liked you as well."

At that Demelza let out a small giggle. "Truly?" She quickly sobered. "I didn't know if anyone in your family approved of Ross's choice of wife."

Now Verity laughed. "Oh, my dear. I've watched the ladies of Truro chase him for nigh on four years and none of them would have ever made him as happy as you have right now, and you aren't even married yet. No, however much Francis and Father may want to protest, you are the best match for Ross."

Demelza desperately tried to hold her tongue, to keep from asking her question, but couldn't. "And Elizabeth?"

At that Verity did sigh. "I'll not speak ill of my sister. But she _and_ Ross are both vastly different people than they were seven years ago, even if you only took into account the years and not their experiences." She paused. "Elizabeth would not fit Ross's Nampara life."

With that, Demelza could see the subject of Elizabeth was closed. "Thank you for telling me." She hesitated briefly. "I'll not make Ross ashamed of me."

"You could not, my dear," said Verity, reaching across the empty space between them to grasp one of Demelza's hands. "Don't listen to Francis or any of those gossips in Sawle or Truro." At that her face grew a bit harder. "Ross chose you. And you accepted him." She paused. "Grab love, and take and keep it while you can."

Verity was no longer looking at her and Demelza knew she was thinking of Captain Blamey. It seemed unseemly to watch Verity, as her thoughts seemed to almost cross her eyes. It almost felt as if Demelza was spying. It took only a moment before Verity seemed to come back to herself. "You do love him, don't you?"

"More than anything," Demelza replied a little breathily. "But...he's never... I could never hope that he would..." She took in a deep breath. "He's kind to me. But I'd not call it love. He's never used that word with me." She took another breath and said, "And I doubt he shall."

"I see," Verity said, her smile small and somewhat secretive. "I don't need to stay to ensure you two have an adequate chaperone, do I?" Her smile turned into a smirk.

Demelza blushed furiously. "Judas. You're more like Ross than you let on." She grabbed her tea cup and took a sip, simply for the need to do something with her hands. "Believe me, Prudie and Jud's disbelief and disapproval are chaperone enough."

Verity frowned. "I don't know why Ross allows them to stay."

Demelza just smiled. It was a thought she had had many times in the past three years, and even more so in the past two weeks! "I'm sorry Ross could not join us," she repeated.

"I'm enjoying tea with you, my dear. Now, tell me about these six brothers of yours."

"Oh." Demelza felt her mouth fall shut with an audible _click._ "I haven't seen them since I came to Nampara. I think I told you that I'm the eldest. Luke's next, then Willie and Jack, the twins, and then Sam and Drake."

Verity looked at her with an interested eye. "Demelza and Drake are very unusual names."

"I was named after my mother. I look like her as well, or so my father said." SHe took a deep breath to calm her nervous at the thought of her father. "She died six months after Drake was born. I was only ten, but she hadn't been well for most of the she was carrying Drake. Really only Luke, Willie, Jack and I remember her." Demelza paused before nearly physically shaking herself. "My father just remarried to a widow woman in Illugan. So I have a new stepmother."

"Oh!" said Verity. "That will be good for your brothers, surely. Have you met her."

Demelza shook her head. "No, I haven't been back to Illugan." She paused. "And she hasn't visited Nampara." And pray she never would, thought Demelza.

"Do you think they will come to the wedding?" Demelza shook her head again. "Well, I am planning to be there, no matter how I have to convince Father and Francis."

On that triumphant note Verity surged to her feet before grasping Demelza's hands in her own again, an action she often did, Demelza noticed. "Thank you for tea, my dear. I'll go back to Trenwith now. And I will see you again soon."

As Demelza numbly followed her toward the door, she softly asked, "Will you not wait for Ross to walk with you?"

Verity laughed, high and sweet. It was not a sound Demelza had yet heard from the other woman. "No dear. I will be fine. Give him my best."

Then she was gone. Demelza watched as the gray of Verity's dress slowly blended into the colors of the sky and the grasses on the horizon until she could no longer discern her from the surroundings. As she returned alone to the sanctuary of Nampara, she let out a deep breath. Hopefully her second test with Ross's family had been a success. She rather thought it had, but was wary. As Prudie had said to her years ago, "Gentlefolks is strange."

Demelza would not think poorly of her tea with Verity if she heard the other woman gushing to Ross as he walked her close to the borders of Trenwith. She had purposefully taken a circuitous route by Wheal Leisure on her way home to see if she could catch Ross for a conversation."

"This had best be serious, Ross Poldark."

"What do you mean, Verity?" Ross would _never_ admit that women, be they family, friend, lover, or otherwise, constantly perplexed him.

"Demelza. I know you're serious about being wed, but I hope you are serious in your intent towards her otherwise. She is kind and good, Ross. She doesn't deserve to have her heart broken or be ill-used." She didn't grip his hands in hers, but did pat them gently, almost as one would the head of a pup.

Ross was silent at this. One part of him was full of denials that he would ever hurt anyone in such a manner, much less a woman. Another felt deep disappointment that his cousin thought him capable of such. While he had been wild as a young man, there had been no debauching of innocent lasses or even much whoring. In this he was tarred with the brush of his father's philanderings.

"You needn't worry, Verity. Demelza is dear to me." Ross set his mouth into a straight line, hopefully displaying his displeasure with this conversation without saying such.

They walked in silence for only a few minutes more before Ross took his leave of Verity. "Please give my best to Uncle and Francis." He swiftly turned on his heel and began his way back home.


	11. Chapter 11

It gets a little explicit this chapter, so be aware!

Ross had never considered himself a particularly introspective person, even when returning to Cornwall after the war. He was still more prone to act first and consider the consequences later, when they brought trouble.

Usually the aftermath only had an impact on him. The consequences of being with Demelza, however, were piling up. He literally shook his head to remove the thought. He couldn't think of her being tied to him as a consequence. His rather though _all_ his actions indicated, to everyone else in Cornwall if not Demelza, that he was serious in taking her to wife. But the discussion with Verity revealed some hard truths. There was a worry, even from his own family, that he would abscond on his responsibilities and go back on his word.

Now the disappointment he felt in his gut mutated to a fiery anger. How could they think so little of him? Especially Verity. Francis and his uncle thinking such would _almost_ be understood, since they didn't approve and it would be a long while before they would be convinced of Demelza's suitability for him. He had thought Verity would have more faith in him.

Lost in the fog of his thoughts, Ross missed the small depression in the ground as he walked and stepped in it. He fell off balance and let out a small exclamation of pain and surprise as his left ankle twisted. "Damn it!" It would, of course, be on his leg that he had wounded in the war. Normally, it had been long enough that he felt no ill effects from it. Only on the very worst of Cornwall days did it slow him down at all. This, however, would definitely keep him off his feet for a day at least. He didn't dare go down into Leisure on a bum ankle. Still sitting where he fell, Ross rubbed at the ankle through the leather of his boots. They had provided some support so the sprain wasn't as bad as some he had had in childhood. He knew better than to take off the boot to walk home, so he began to hobble the remaining way back to Nampara.

By the time he reached the house, the sun had nearly completely set, leaving eh sky streaked with inky colors of dark blue and purple. The door opened before he could reach for it, and he came face to face with Demelza.

"Ross! I've been watching and waitin' for ye..." She paused as she noticed his limp. "Oh Ross, are ye well?" She moved quickly to his side to support him, but he waved her off.

"It's just my ankle. Nothing food and a day of rest won't help. I'll not be good for anything tomorrow but sitting in the library, I'm afraid." He could feel Demelza's gaze on his back as he made his way into the kitchen. He had felt the ankle swell in his boot as he walked home. He turned back as he sat on one of the benches to look at her. "Is there dinner? I know I'm later than expected."

She sprang into action at his words. "O' course." Demelza moved quickly about the room gathering his meal.

Ross was only just able to rein in a grimace when he saw the food. Demelza set a fish pie in front of him, reminiscent of that very first meal she had cooked for him. However, with his unexpectedly late return, he had little hope she had been able to salvage her creation. He braced himself for something less than satisfying, though nothing Demelza cooked could ever drop to the level of Prudie's horrors that he had lived with before Demelza's arrival at Nampara.

He was extremely surprised, then, when the pie turned out to be one of her best. He could feel his eyebrows rise involuntarily as he ate. Everything was hot as if it had just finished cooking, and yet she couldn't have known when he would arrive, especially with his tumble. It didn't seem to matter the subject: Demelza confounded him at every turn. He watched as she puttered about the kitchen rather than joining him at the table. "Did you already eat?" he asked.

"No, I was waiting," she said. He noticed she didn't elaborate.

"And yet?" he asked, gesturing to the bench across from him. "Will you not sit and eat?"

He watched her slide into place across from him as she had so many weeks before, when Leisure had only just opened and he had her sit at the table with him the first time. She was nearly as flustered, and he had rarely seen her act in such a manner. As his thoughts continued to tumble about in his head, he finally remembered that he had walked Verity to Trenwith. "Did you have a good visit with Verity?" He just managed to conceal a grimace of anger as he thought of their conversation.

She didn't quite startle at his question, but it was near enough. "Yes, it was lovely. Very kind of her to visit. She enjoyed those scones I made, the ones you like."

"Well, you are a good cook, Demelza. I'm late for dinner and yet it is as if you knew exactly when I would be home. It's delicious."

Demelza gave a small smile. "What happened, Ross?"

He waved her question away, as he had her arm when he had came inside. "I tripped into a rabbit warren after I walked Verity home."

"Lucky you weren't on Darkie," she said as she cut him another slice of pie.

"Indeed." The thought came to him then that Demelza would need a horse. She couldn't always be riding Darkie with him. He filed it away: they would have to be married before he took Demelza into Truro. Even going to Sawle together would set the gossipers' tongues wagging to an inordinate degree. His purchasing the items for her had already begun the prattling of small-minded villagers.

"I think Verity is going to come to the wedding even if she has to bribe servants and sneak out of Trenwith," Demelza said. "She seems very determined." She paused before adding, "She's very like you, Ross."

Ross looked at her with a skeptical eye. "I'm going to hope that is a good thing and not a slight on my cousin," he said with a grin.

"Ross!" She resisted the urge to kick him under the table and instead settled for a cheeky grin of her own. "Before she left she asked if we had an adequate chaperone!"

Ross did laugh at that. "It is a good thing we do not, or we might not be getting married soon." He saw her visage darken and she tried to speak. "Demelza," he interrupted, "Trust me when I say this is a good thing for us both, I'm not being influenced by any sort of guilt or charity, and that I want us to marry. No protestation that it isn't right or proper. Only if you've changed your mind about it." He belated realized that his anger at his family had made him short with her. He wasn't unaware that his moods could put him a dark place, and he took the brunt of him.

She remained quiet and said nothing to this declaration, so he nodded. "Alright then." He paused. "I'm going to need you to help me with the boot. I could feel my ankle swelling the whole time I walked home."

"Sit while I clear the table and then we can go upstairs. If you're going to be in the library all day tomorrow there's no reason to stay down here working by the light of only a few candles," she said.

He couldn't fault her logic. He watched as she began to clean up from their supper. "Jud and Prudie abed?" he asked.

"Yes, s– Ross. Long since."

She was turned away from him when she spoke so he couldn't see her face. He sighed to himself. If she was back to nearly calling him _sir_ again they had certainly lost ground. He would have to work to reestablish the trust they had had previously.

He couldn't help but watch her as she moved about Nampara. She fit there like she was made for it. Fit _him_ , he thought. He was struck with a realization: he felt that love for her that he had thought would take longer to grow. It wasn't like what he had felt for Elizabeth, though that wasn't a comparison, just a fact. At nearly the same instant he realized he loved Demelza, Ross also knew he couldn't say it yet. Neither of them were ready.

"Ross?" Demelza's voice interrupted his musings.

He turned himself to face her and put his hand out to her. "My dear." That was one endearment he felt he could use. Demelza gripped his fingers tightly. Her countenance was placid: this was the only external evidence of her nervousness. "Ready?" She nodded and he gingerly stood from the bench.

"So, did Verity share any news from Trenwith?" he asked as she helped him limp to the stairs.

"None at all. Even her stories of you were tame, Ross," Demelza said. "I'm beginning to think that your reputation as a rogue is highly exaggerated."

Ross felt his smile nearly split his face in two. "I see someone has been reading in the library. And nary a trace of that Illugan urchin I brought home all those years ago." Even in the soft light of the candles he could see her blush. He wanted to brush his fingers through her red-gold hair. "So what did you discuss instead?"

"She asked about my brothers. I think I told you that I mentioned them when we were at Trenwith." She easily took his weight on one side as they slowly made their way up the stairs. When they reached the top, she murmured, "I wish we were marrying tomorrow, Ross. I tire of waiting."

"It's not much longer, Demelza," said Ross, moving slowly into the room to a chair at the bedside. "What worries you?"

She didn't answer his question, but instead knelt to take off the boot from his injured foot. After its removal, the swelling was evident even through his stockings. "Ross!" She immediately pulled a stool to the chair for him to prop his foot up. "Keep that up. You're lucky you didn't break it." She moved to repeat the boot removal on his other foot, but Ross grabbed her hands to stop her.

"Demelza?"

She wouldn't look at him, and that made him a bit anxious. "I'm fine, Ross. Just tired." She pulled away from him enough to maneuver, and bent to remove the other boot. She doffed his stockings, leaving him in his breeches, shirt, and weskit. Ross's gaze followed Demelza as she moved through the bedroom with what seemed to be little effort. As in Nampara's kitchen, she seemed to 'fit' into the master's bedroom. As she moved, however, he noticed that while she wound her way around as if she belonged there, there was still no sense of Demelza within the room. He would have to remind her that it was her space as well. She had utilized the dressing table, but only minimally.

His path of thought altered swiftly as he beheld the sight of her beginning to undress. He didn't think she doing it on purpose, but the sight of her removing her dress and unfastening her corset made his blood race. The contrast of her red hair and pale skin was muted in the candlelight, but still visible. The sensation worsened as she sat to remove her stockings. He had to close his eyes against the sight of them sliding down her long legs.

Ross groaned. In the midst of slipping out of her shift and into a night rail, Demelza's gaze swiftly moved to his face. "Ross?"

"You're trying to kill me," he said through clenched teeth. He opened his eyes and met her green eyes and saucy grin. He put a hand out to her and said, "Come here." She came to him and put her hand in his. Ross pulled her close to him and when she was close enough, he pulled her off balance enough so that she ended up sitting in his lap.

She fell onto his thighs with a slight squeal. "Ross! Your leg!"

He shook his head. "I'm fine, Demelza." He positioned her so that her skin was separated from his by only his breeches. He wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her upper body to his, leaning in close to kiss her. Between the heat of his kisses and the rocking motion between them, Ross could feel the wetness of her excitement begin to seep through the fabric separating them. It brought him to an even greater high of arousal.

Demelza's loose night rail made it easy to slip his hands under it and caress her breasts. Demelza would never rival most women in that department, but Ross like them: small, firm, and sensitive. She let out a small keening moan when his thumbnail gently scraped across her nipple. "R-Ross," she stuttered over his name, but he knew it was not due to any discomfort with her using it.

He pulled her close and kissed her again, gently exploring her mouth with his tongue when she didn't deny him entry. Too soon for his liking, she pulled away to breath. Demelza shook her head wildly and Ross watched her fiery hair cascade around her.

Ross bunched the night rail in one hand and was just able to say, "Off." His soon-to-be wife was driving him wild for her. She quickly pulled the night rail over her head and looked at Ross with a gaze full of desperation and longing. It wasn't a look he had seen from her before. He filed it away in his mind to recognize later.

Though Demelza still rocked on his lap, the breeches limited him. Ross instead moved his left hand to her hip to hold Demelza steady and moved his right to where she was rubbing against him. Ross heard the hitch in her breath as he lightly brushed over her sensitive pearl. And watched as she arched back slightly. She moaned, long and low, which broke when he stroked with more intent and her breath stuttered. "What...?"

Ross cut off her question with a murmured "Shhhh." His thumb rubbed along the skin of her hip where it rested and he said, "Just feel." She nodded and then closed her eyes at the barrage of sensations he was able to create in her body.

When he felt Demelza could take more stimulation, Ross maneuvered them over to the bed, using his good leg to steady them. Demelza let out a small squeak as she landed on her back. "Much better," Ross purred. He settled himself to Demelza's left, supported on his elbow. He took note of her breathy gasps and watched her breasts heave as she tried to calm herself.

Ross decided her calmness was not at all what he wanted. He moved one hand back to the juncture of her thighs and the other to stroke between her breasts and hip. He enjoyed hearing her breathy moans and occasional keening reactions. Wanting to feel even more of him, Ross swung his good right leg over to her other side and put all his weight on his knees. His hands stayed where they were, still stroking and teasing.

Though Demelza's eyes were still closed, she could feel as Ross changed position over her. She liked feel his weight on her when they were together. But he had never before put his hands on her so. She felt some of his hair caress her forehead just before his lips met hers. She bucked up against him into the kiss, hoping to show him how good his actions made her feel – something she didn't think she could begin to express in words.

Demelza felt rather than heard him speak when he said her name. Her body was at once heavy and light. Ross whispered her name again and she felt his breath on her neck. "Ross...," she pleaded, drawing out his name. SHe had never been on a boat, not even a small one in the coves, but she felt as though this must be what it was like to ride a wave.

Ross smiled, though with her eyes still closed he knew Demelza couldn't see it. He moved his mouth to her neck and kissed her there, feeling her fluttering heartbeat against his lips. He gently lapped Demelza's skin, just at the hollow of her throat, and the tang of her salty sweat burst across his tongue. With his right hand still teasing the folds of her sex, he used his left to caress her breast intently and build more of her ardor. She mewled like a kitten when he let one of his fingernails scrape across her nipple for the second time. Her hitched breathing and bucking hips gave Ross the impetus to push further. Not moving his hand from one breast, he licked a line down the other, taking in the nipple and laving it thoroughly with his tongue.

She squealed at the sensation and her eyes popped open in surprise. "Judas, Ross!"

He took this as encouragement and began to move his fingers further than teasing. Ross position his hand so his thumb would rub against her pearl and thrust into her with two fingers. He was rewarded with a gasped, "Oh!" from Demelza and another buck of her hips, though he still kept himself at her breast. He was as hard as the ironstone they were chipping through in the mine, and his cock strained against the fabric of his breeches against her thigh.

It took a bit of maneuvering before he was able to abandon the first nipple, puffy and red, for the other. Demelza continue to let out small mewling noises and began to shake her head back and forth against the pillows. Ross could feel her limbs begin to tremble under him and thought she was close to her pleasure. Suddenly all her movement stopped, she threw her head back with her eyes closed again, and her body arched against Ross's in a wild interpretation of a nocked bow. "Judas, Ross, Ross, Ross..."

Ross held Demelza like that for nearly a minute before her muscle loosened and she appeared to come back to herself. Her eyes opened, revealing a glassy, satisfied look. "What have you done to me, Ross?"

He smirked at her question. If she hadn't been so blissful, she might have told him off. "Did you like it?"

She turned her face away from his. Although no blush could be seen due to her flush from exertion and pleasure, he would have bet money that she was blushing. "You know I did. Where did you? How did you...? Oh...," she said, trailing off.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, my dear," Ross said. He leaned back over her to kiss her with another deep, breath-denying kiss that had her breaking for air sooner than they both wished. He had rolled back to her side to observe her fully, and the bulge in his breeches was very prominent. He watched Demelza take a deep breath and turn her gaze to his. Lost in her beautiful face, he only tangentially noticed her hands moving closer to him.

Ross took in his own gasping breath when he felt Demelza's slight fingers begin to undo the buttons of his placket. She had never before been so bold with him. He had not asked her what she knew of men: she had brothers, of course, so she knew what males looked like. He had known her a virgin the moment they had laid together the night she enticed him in that dress. He hadn't known her to be particularly friendly with any of the young men living near to Nampara: in truth, she had spent almost all of her time at Nampara barring special occasions like Jim and Jinny's wedding. Her reactions made it obvious to Ross that she had had little experience in her own pleasure, at least.

Ross decided not to push her or expect too much. "Demelza, you needn't..." He broke off his words at the look she gave him.

"I should like to please you, Ross," she said quietly but looking into his eyes as she spoke.

Ross smired at her. He entwined her fingers in his own before lifting them to his lips. "First, you'll want to make sure you have some sort of wetness." His broad tongue ran over her palm and down to her fingertips several times before moving both their hands into his breeches to stroke his cock. Ross knew his release wouldn't take long: not only had he thoroughly enjoyed pleasing Demelza, but the idea of her bringing him off aroused him even more. He guided her for a few strokes before he left go of her hand and threw his head back. The feeling of her hand on him was heady and sent him spinning. "Demelza," he said, her name a breathy moan on his lips.

She, the minx, was smiling like the cat that got the cream. Her pace and pressure increased in tandem with his moans. It wasn't long before Ross spilled over himself and her hand, dirtying his breeches even further. He collapsed on his stomach next to her, his head buried in the pillow. Neither said a word, context to let their strained breathing and fluttering heartbeats speak for themselves.


End file.
